


running in circles

by baechuzz



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:54:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 50,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24685696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baechuzz/pseuds/baechuzz
Summary: Jaemin looks at his test results. He sucks in a deep breath, setting the papers on the desk calmly, pushing them back. He glances up at the doctor.“Is this right?” he wonders aloud, eyeing the number on the paper. “I don’t think it’s right.”OrIn which the government runs a DNA-based soulmate search program that determines the opportunities participants have in life. Matching only 5 percent, Jaemin and Jeno are the lowest ever recorded soulmates.
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin
Comments: 39
Kudos: 562
Collections: NOMIN FIC FEST





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> prompt #218
> 
> The prompt is inspired by the book "The One" by John Marrs and the webtoon "LUFF" by Arechan.

Jaemin looks at his test results. He sucks in a deep breath, setting the papers on the desk calmly, pushing them back. He glances up at the doctor.

“Is this right?” he wonders aloud, eyeing the number on the paper. “I don’t think it’s right.”

He doesn’t want to come off too strong, the people-pleaser in him is working too well, so he forces a pleasant smile on his lips. The doctor laughs nervously and pulls the stack of papers away from him. She seems anxious as well and that has an immediate effect on Jaemin, too. He can tell she’s wringing her arms under the table and it sets a heavy feeling in his stomach.

“Mr Na, we are very sure about your results,” she says finally, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him.

The smile freezes on Jaemin’s lips.

“So, what you’re saying is – my soulmate, my significant other whom I shall spend the rest of my life together suits me as much as, let me see _ , 5 percent _ ?” he asks, voice slipping higher to the end of the question. He cocks his head to the side and he can feel his smile turn bitter. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a number so low. There must be an error, so please run it again.”

“Mr Na, we ran the test multiple times already. It’s always the same,” the doctor puts her hand over his in a motherly manner. He wants to shake it off but he stops himself in time. “But it’s not the end of the world, there are plenty of opportunities for lower-level matches. No need for panic.”

Jaemin chuckles. He pulls his hand back, folding his arms in front of his chest. “No need for panic? Excuse me, but I’m here because right now I’m in desperate need for some good media coverage, as you surely know, Dr Jung. If the media gets a sniff that my suitability percentage is 5 percent—”

Dr Jung cuts in, suddenly gaining confidence, “We offer complete discretion. I assure you, there is no way your information would leak out.”

Jaemin has doubts about that. Because in his case, Murphy's Law is always working so very well. As far as he’s concerned whatever can go wrong,  _ will _ go wrong. He’s right in the middle of a row of bad luck when he thought ‘okay, there’s no way things would turn even worse’ and then they spat on his face and turned worse. He can already see the headlines of the unlikeable, petty actor and his 5 percent match. He already hears people whisper behind his back ‘ _ I told you I’ve never liked _ _ him’ _ and ‘ _ serves him right, he deserves all the bullshit for what he’s done _ ’. 

Jaemin massages his temples – he can already feel the brewing headache there. “I want to meet with my so-called soulmate.”

“That is not advisable, Mr Na. We usually don’t let people meet under 45 percent of a match because it just won’t work,” Dr Jung says, mouth pursed into a thin line. Jaemin knows he’s putting her into a difficult situation, asking her to go against the rules of the government. But he’s also very curious of the poor thing who’s matched with him that low. Maybe they can cry together how miserable their lives are with a company of a beer or two. 

Jaemin doesn’t pretend to understand how matches are made. Something about matching DNAs and personalities but he never cared, never listened. But it is beyond him how no one in the whole world has a match over 5 percent with him. For Pete’s sake, he’s more chemistry with his asshole of a manager than that.

Jaemin is maybe pushing the meeting because it’s not real until he sees it himself. He sees a number who is to represent his soulmate, but no face, no name. It’s mystified and stupid – he should at least be able to decide whether or not to meet his soulmate. Deciding his own future, deciding if this 5 percent match worth the trouble. This system is already messed him up, even if his reasons are stupid and he’s being nonsensical – he wants to have a choice.

So Jaemin puts on his most charming smile, the one that his mother taught him, a perfect row of pearly white teeth flashing, eyes dancing with sadness and pity – it is fake, but no one has to know. “Dr Jung, you see, I’ve always been oh-so-lonely,” he says, voice dipping low. He blinks prettily, long eyelashes giving him a brooding look. “If this is the chance of me loving someone, I don’t want some number stopping me.”

Dr Jung gulps. She’s a pretty woman, looks younger than probably her age actually is. From the nervousness and the empathy that Jaemin picked up at the beginning, from the small touches and the apologizing smiles, he guesses she doesn’t have a high level either. No that’s impossible, he thinks, she wouldn’t be in this position without an 80 plus percent. It’s someone close to her.

“You must not understand this,” Jaemin adds chastely, smile withering from his lips and he looks out of the huge windows for an effect. Dr Jung’s breathe audibly hitches in her throat. “How lonely this life is. I just want a chance to love.”

“I  _ do _ understand,” she says with passion in her tone. Her eyes glint with something rebellious and Jaemin thinks,  _ jackpot _ . “My sister, she’s a smart and beautiful woman. She has a 44 percent match. It’s just below the line, you see. But it hasn’t stopped ruining her life. No jobs, no opportunities for people like that. She isn’t allowed to meet her match either – and I see her being so miserable and lonely.

“I like you, Mr Na. I’ve watched you grow up on the screen. Always so sincere, always so lovely,” she says, looking at Jaemin tenderly. Jaemin fights down the urge to squirm under her gaze, it’s something he’s never got used to – just how attached people can become to him despite never meeting, never talking to him, only seeing him through the screen. “I don’t want you to share the fate of my sister. And I know that your life will not be easy anymore. So while I can’t help my sister… I can help you.”

Okay, this was easier than he thought. He was waiting for more vigour, more opposition from someone who goes against government orders. A dark thought flies through his mind – just how miserable the sister’s life is so Dr Jung helps so willingly, risking her job and reputation. He decides to deal with the thought later when he’s alone to spiral down.

“Will you?” Jaemin’s voice is merely a whisper.

She visibly glances at the cameras around them, putting Jaemin’s file away.

“They can’t pick up voices,” she says reassuringly. “But I can’t just hand the file over. I’ll help you organize the meeting – the rest is on you.”

**

“Why’s the sour mood?” Donghyuck opens the door of the car as soon as he sees him, a shit-eating grin spreading over his features. He has a few buttons popped open on his white shirt, tan skin peeking out; sunglasses perched on his nose. “Turns out no one wants you, Na? Seems right for me.”

“Suck my ass, Lee,” Jaemin answers bitterly. He’s not in a good mood right now and the last thing he wants right now is his manager – honestly, he isn’t truly a manager, he can’t manage for shit, he’s just a glorified babysitter his parents hired so Jaemin would ‘ _ behave’ _ – chasing his own fun at Jaemin’s expense.

Donghyuck clicks his tongue, “I would if you’d let me.”

Jaemin stops in his track. “What the  _ actual _ fuck, Donghyuck.”

His manager holds up his hands.

“I just said I wouldn’t mind. Neither would Renjun. You’re a catch,” he shrugs. He gives Jaemin a once-over that makes the other feel like he needs to draw his clothes tighter on his body. “It’s not your charming personality that does the work, though.”

Jaemin Na is a flirt. It’s a well-known fact, countless news outlets wrote and will continue to write that he is one. But little do they know that he’s got nothing on the one and only Donghyuck Lee, manager and friend extraordinaire of his, who will charm the dead. It’s no wonder he rubs off on Jaemin so much.

He decides not to comment on what Donghyuck said because there is no way he’ll give him the satisfaction to see him blush. 

“This is the worst day of my life,” Jaemin groans as he climbs into the car. 

“It cannot be a bad day since I’m here to grace it,” his manager follows him and plops down on the seat next to Jaemin’s. He scoots closer, impossibly so and drapes an arm around Jaemin’s shoulders. “Now, tell your best friend how the soulmate search went.” 

“You’re not my best friend. My parents pay you to be there.”

“Oh, slow down, my dude,” he pats Jaemin’s chest – hard. “First of all, you’ve no friends beside me, maybe Renjun and while Renjun is an honourable mention, this situation leaves me as your bestie. Secondly, do you think I’d stay if I didn’t like your ass? I mean, you. But I like your ass, too. Thirdly, you’re avoiding the topic.”

Jaemin looks around of the inside of the car, searching for anything shiny enough to divert Donghyuck’s attention so he won’t have to confess that his soulmate matches him with a stunning 5 percent, the lowest ever percent in the world. Which is not something Jaemin wanted to be famous for.

He contemplates lying but Donghyuck, stellar liar himself, can see through him like he’s transparent. 

“Oh no. Is your soulmate not hot?” he dramatically gasps, eyes comically wide open as he stares at Jaemin. “That’s our burden, my friend. Hard to find a match who’s as good-looking as us. I lucked out with my gremlin but you – you were never the lucky type. But give them a chance. They might have a charming personality.”

Jaemin turns to take in Donghyuck and deadpans, “I swear to God, I’ll end you.”

“I would like to see you try.” He smiles and cocks his head to the side. “Now, will you finally tell me what happened inside?”

“No.” Jaemin pulls up his phone and types away on it. For a moment Jaemin thinks that Donghyuck has finally found some common sense and empathy buried deep inside him, under all that sarcasm and dark humour, and drops the topic Jaemin oh so not wanted to talk about when he also takes out his phone. Jaemin lets out a deep breath of relief.

Donghyuck clears his throat, gaining back Jaemin’s undivided attention. “Then you’re Google search of ‘ _ low-percentage soulmates _ ’ means that everything is fine and dandy with your soulmate, right?”

_ Shit _ . 

He forgot that Donghyuck, the absolute demon he is, had figured out his passwords and likes to use his search history to humble him.

“Yes.”

“How low?” Donghyuck asks, his voice growing sober. It’s scary, to see him becoming so serious. It’s making Jaemin feel like it is the reality and not some fucked up daydream of his.

Jaemin’s fingers halt on the screen of his phone. While Donghyuck is a little shit and a good for nothing manager, he’s right about being one of his few friends whom he can trust. Having a low percentage with your soulmate was so stigmatized by the government, who wanted the whole DNA soulmate search program to break into the market, that everything began to revolve around it. Friendships and acquaintances have broken up because of low-level matches since they were seen as the source of unhappiness and misery – and no one wanted to grow a relationship with someone who might not be stable in the future. People began to stray away from low-level matches to the point they started to create rules against them, giving no chance for them to find their own happiness.

Jaemin bites the insides of his cheeks. He looks at Donghyuck, with his excellent 86 percent of matching with his soulmate, Renjun – his quite high-level match enabled him to transfer to an elite college with a scholarship, despite being an okay-ish student and secure this job as Jaemin’s babysitter with no experience. Happier people work better, says the government. The government seem not to meet with Lee  _ I-would-rather-you-manage-your-own-things _ Donghyuck and his infamously low work-morale. 

And yet, Jaemin thinks Donghyuck might understand.

He braces himself. Just like plaster, he reminds himself, quickly pull it off then it won’t hurt so much.

“Five.”

Donghyuck gives out a noncommittal little noise and bumps his shoulder to Jaemin’s. 

“Pardon. I’ve only heard five.” 

Jaemin risks a glance at his friend, who seems confused. He wants to backtrack, say he’s just joking and Donghyuck should not take him seriously, like ever. Tell him he chickened out the last moment, just before they took his DNA and at the end, he never received his percentage. He was too afraid of getting a low percentage so he just didn’t do it, he wants to say. He wishes that is the case, though.

But he’s too far in right now and Donghyuck would never believe an excuse so lame. Also, the silence began to feel too heavy and he can practically see the pity blooming in Donghyuck’s eyes as moments pass – and he doesn’t even know the whole story yet.

“Yes. It is  _ 5 _ percent,” Jaemin says finally. He thought that this would make him feel better. To admit it aloud, so he doesn’t have to be the only one carrying this weight. But the heavy feeling in his stomach is still present and his breathing still feels a bit too quick – and all this feels too fucking much.

No one ever thinks that they will be the ones who are going to be singled out to be pushed to the margins of society. No one is ever prepared for this. And Jaemin, always sitting on the high-horse, always wearing that stupidly confident smile like nothing can hurt him – he’s fucking terrified right now.

Donghyuck collects himself before he carefully asks, “What does that mean for you?” 

Jaemin doesn’t want to see things into Donghyuck’s behaviour because he knows that right now he’s not in his best state of mind. But he catches the small movement as he pulls away from Jaemin, putting a small distance between their bodies like he’s contagious or something and thinks,  _ ah so this is how my life’s going to be _ . 

Donghyuck notices his own actions and has the decency to blush. He leans into Jaemin again, a silent apology for his unconscious movements.

“I don’t know actually,” Jaemin says and lets his head roll back on the seat. “This is the lowest percentage registered  _ ever _ . So my soulmate will probably hate me when – ah, no if – we ever get to meet because we don’t match at all and all that jazz. No one is going to hire me for a role  _ despite _ it having nothing to do with this whole soulmate thingy. Life is probably going to suck.”

Donghyuck winces as he lists the things.

“Man, you’re never this pessimistic.” He punches Jaemin’s shoulder. “Get your head out of your ass.”

“Oh, sorry Mr  _ 86 percent match _ , I didn’t know my moping disturbs your perfect little life,” Jaemin mocks and closes his eyes. Maybe he was wrong, and even Donghyuck who is arguably his closest friend, also won’t understand. Everything feels too fucking much. There’s a brewing headache in the back of his head, slowly seeping and settling into him like sweet poison. And Donghyuck, maybe he’s trying – but Jaemin is just tired right now.

“You know, that’s not what I meant,” his friend says, voice growing softer. He leans his head on Jaemin’s shoulder and begins explaining, “What I really meant is that you’re so stupidly confident in yourself despite being an absolute moron, that there is no possibility that you’ll let yourself be treated like shit by the society.”

Jaemin cracks an eye open to peek a look at the top of Donghyuck honey-coloured locks. 

“Why does it feel more like an insult than a pep talk?” he can’t help keeping the smile out of his voice. This – this is familiar. Donghyuck’s smart mouth and their banter – they are familiar. He tries to ground himself with them. Donghyuck is a good person, sometimes loud and annoying deep down, he cares. The problem is not him, not that he flinched away when he discovered Jaemin’s percentage. The problem is how deeply embedded it is in the society that even Donghyuck gets skittish hearing a low number. 

“Because it is an insult,” Donghyuck snorts, then sits even closer to Jaemin, bodies flush to each other, to make up for the momentary confusion from before. “But seriously dude, you’ll figure this out.”

***

He knows he’s fluctuating. That he’s being moody. One moment, he doesn’t care – he has never been interested in this soulmate business. He always thought that he’ll meet the right person in the right time totally accidentally and not through a governmental matchmaking service. Call him a hopeless romantic for that. But then he realizes how people will judge him by his number – how he also selected Donghyuck as his manager because of the 80 above percentage, even if his prestigious university grades were shit, how he has an inner judgement for those below 45 percent because this was dictated by the society. 

High-level matches mean a happy and motivated workforce living full lives, at least that’s the propaganda. But nothing is always just happiness and rainbows. For the low-level matches, life turned into hell. Society as a whole turned against them, taking away jobs and life opportunities from them like it was nothing. Like they were nothing. Slowly the higher level matches turned against them, with no hope whatsoever for a better life.

With the new system, people began to take advantage of the percentages. First, it was only the workplaces making pulling a limit at 45 percent – a bit under average, but they’ll do the work. There are not many cases under 45 percent, after all. Then came banks offering better credit for those above a certain match level. Then scholarships were no longer the question of good grades but high matches of either of the parents or if they were the age, of the student. It was a slow process, almost invisible if you were not part of the low-level matches.

The programme became mandatory. It leaves a little place to move, to live your life before a soulmate match – freedom has a time limit, though, which is until the person’s 25th birthday. 

Jaemin’s 23 years old now. He could’ve had time to push it. And he intended to use his time wisely, building a good enough career in acting that nothing can hurt it. But then the rumours started – rumours about him being against the government, snippets of audio records put on the internet about him, drunkenly telling strangers how he despises the system, how this is just some false dream of a utopia that will never happen, will never work. 

(It was a low time of his life – a boyfriend, whom with he could imagine spending a life together finding his soulmate is, indeed,  _ not _ Jaemin.)

This is stupid. He plays the victim but he can’t help feeling sorry for himself, sorry for the fool who shares this matching number.

That night, under the comfort of his blanket and in peaceful solitude, Jaemin reads articles about low-match soulmates who stayed together all their lives, who lived and loved each other even if their DNAs didn’t match perfectly and their wishes of how they wouldn’t get treated badly just because they’re not perfect matches. Out of curiosity, Jaemin also reads articles and blog posts about high-level matches who couldn’t bear to be together for more than a day, who married and loved other people and never seek out for their soulmates again.

Jaemin types  _ lowest soulmate percentage _ into the search bar again, fingers trembling and a bit afraid of his own name popping up. It’s been a day only, but he wouldn’t put it aside the media to be immediately on the trace. But instead, a picture of two women opens, smiling and holding hands and the title of the article says,  _ 32% Match Couple Has Been Happily Married For More Than 10 Years _ . He opens the article.

There is an immense amount of raw love in both women’s eyes on the picture as Jaemin stares at it. He guesses them to be middle-aged, beauty still shining and their love is still tender. He skips through the article.

_ “We’re not ashamed about our number,” Joohyun Bae (34) says. “Because we think that it has nothing to do with love.” _

_ Bae Joohyun and Wendy Shon have been married for eleven years now. They worked through their low-level match, still finding great comfort in each other. Against the odds, they continued seeing each other even when people were taunting them that they would just bring misery on themselves.  _

_ “I have never believed this system,” Wendy Shon (31) adds. “We are living evidence.” _

_ In their theory, the soulmate system is not entirely without faults. Joohyun says— _

Jaemin stops reading. He doesn’t care about conspiracy theories. He needs cold and hard facts, he needs reassurance that this might work out for him. He’s already dreading the moment the news comes out about his level, announcing his shooting star of a career because no director in their right mind would choose him with his 5 percent match. He needs something that he could hold onto, something that would keep him afloat.

He scrolls lower to the comment section.

** Anonymous ** :

I wish people would understand that these matches are faulty. 

** BabyxxxxGirl25: **

why do they pretend to be happy? just accept that you don’t match and go

** Anonymous:  **

everything’s okay at home? 

** gremlin__king: **

can we, as a society, agree on stopping holding prejudices against low percentage couples? I know several couples who led beautiful lives despite not having high percentage and all their lives they had to continuously prove their love. anw, I support these queens!!

** assabuubu ** : 

same. why are the low percentage people treated like secondary beings? they have to fight through their whole life to find good jobs or get a proper education while being treated they have the plague or something. people grow the fuck up.

** heyitsmemario ** :

I just know you bitches are low-level matches. Stop whining, no one said life will be fair.

** owlliery ** :

thinking that low-level matches are doomed to be miserable is so toxic. love is not only about romantic love. what about friends and family? the mental wellbeing of a person doesn’t only depend on romantic love.

** darkerthanmysoul ** :

I like how these comments are so supportive but none of you would stand up for them in real life. hypocrite much.

** beyonceismyqueen ** :

while I don’t need to prove you anything, dear internet stranger, I’ll link you some low level matches support groups down below. I hope you can join them.

Jaemin’s eyes burn from staring at the bright light of his phone screen for so long into the night. He’s tired, eyelids growing heavy and his consciousness is slipping through his fingers. Facts run through his mind again, just as a reminder – low-level matches can also be happy. There is ongoing support for them at some hidden levels of society. Hidden but waiting. Probably waiting for something big and loud when they can show ‘ _ yeah, this is what I stand up for _ ’. 

Something big and loud.

He sits up quickly. His phone bounces on the hardwood floor but he doesn’t care. He feels almost feverish as he throws his blanket off himself and scrams for his laptop on his nightstand, fingers furiously typing away an e-mail for Donghyuck.

He has a plan.

After he hits send, he throws himself back to the comfort of his bed. His heart is beating a mile per minute, and he thinks – this is crazy. 

But it might work.

A few minutes later, his forgotten phone pings from the floor with a message from Donghyuck.

** From: shitty manager **

you’re one crazy mf 

I’m in

*** 

“This is crazy. I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Donghyuck says, trying to catch up to Jaemin’s long strides while he dials a number. Now that it’s about something less boring than orienting, organizing and accepting roles in Jaemin’s name, it turns out Donghyuck does have some managing skills. Who would’ve thought?

Jaemin bites his lip. His idea doesn’t seem that bright anymore after a good night’s sleep but he can’t backtrack now. He tries to play it off with a shrug. “I know.”

“You know what, I think it’s genius,” Renjun tells him from his other side. Jaemin’s steps falter at the words but he quickly collects himself and pulls ahead, long legs carrying him through the building.

“Do you really think so?” He still peeks at Renjun’s reaction, not sure if he’s mocking him.

Renjun sceptically pulls an eyebrow up, seeing through Jaemin’s façade. However good actor Jaemin is, Renjun sees through him like he’s an open book with a flicker of his eyes – and he just knows. Jaemin’s not sure how this telepathic connection built between them, maybe the shared burden that is Donghyuck in their lives or because Renjun is just so highly tuned to emotions while Jaemin embraces them and lets himself feel – and it’s easy like that. So he doesn’t pretend that he has everything figured out, that he hasn’t just gambled everything on one idea.

“Yes. It’s so stupid that it can be considered a genius,” Renjun snickers at the horror of Jaemin’s expression. He jams his hands into his pocket, keeping up with Jaemin’s long strides with his smaller frame, a sheepish smile blooming on his lips. Jaemin distantly remembers the snaggletooth that made him look so young and boyish at the tender age of 18 when he crossed the border to meet Donghyuck after their test results were revealed. “It can work – after all, no one is as daringly stupid to figure something like this out on their own. So the secret is safe with you.”

Still, in the sudden haze of nostalgia, Jaemin recalls small and shy 18 years old Renjun struggling with Korean and suddenly he misses those times. Renjun now speaks fluently, roasts them fluently and the shyness disappeared completely. Jaemin doesn’t want to pretend he doesn’t miss those old times.

He groans.

“You used stupid twice to describe the plan. Are you sure it is a good idea?” 

“Don’t second question it. It’s not cool,” Renjun says, eyes twinkling with mirth. “And one stupid was to describe you.”

“Thanks. That’s so much better,” Jaemin grunts, quickening his steps even more to lose Renjun. Donghyuck gave up on keeping up with them long ago, having the keys to the car, he calmly watches them as they race together.

“You act so stupidly confident,” Renjun sighs tiredly, grabbing the neckline of Jaemin’s T-shirt to stop him from advancing. “And I know when you get something like this in your head, things will somehow work out for you. Lady Luck has got a thing for your ass.”

Jaemin stops in his tracks for a moment, considering what he just heard. He bites the insides of his cheeks because of a sudden rush of affection and appreciation for his friends. He’s rushing headfirst into a plan that might never work, putting everything on one last card and risking his career, image and reputation. But it seems bearable, knowing that at least two people will stand by him, even if he’s no longer a big name in the industry if people stop praising him and start degrading him – at least Renjun and Donghyuck will be there, to jab at him playfully, to embarrass, then cuddle him.

Life suddenly doesn’t look so bleak.

Renjun narrows his eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? Don’t go soft on me, Jaemin.”

“You two couldn’t even deny you’re soulmates,” Jaemin scoffs, eyeing his two friends on either side of him, his manager having caught up finally. “Donghyuck said the same thing.”

“ _ Ew _ ,” Renjun scrunches his nose up. “Don’t compare me to him.”

A pair of tan arms reach out in front of Jaemin, capturing Renjun in a bone-crushing, passive-aggressive hug before the other could react. 

“You wish, darling. You wish to be as amazing as me.”

Renjun, despite being shorter than both of them and avoiding going to the gym at all costs, has superhuman powers when he wants to. But now, in the comfort of his soulmate’s arms, he restores to just spit vehemently, “Let me go, Donghyuck. I’m not joking. I’ll fucking eat you.”

“Oh? Is this a threat,” Donghyuck pulls an eyebrow up, his smile glinting dangerously. “Or a promise?”

Jaemin’s go-to tactic is to put in his AirPods and hope that whatever weird sexual tension that is between his friends, will pass when he resurfaces. He goes back to read articles about low-level matches, trying to find gaps in the government narration and build a strong enough argument to fend himself. 

He tries not to glance at his friends and think,  _ “I want that.” _

*** 

Jaemin has always been about that  _ ‘fake it till you make it’ _ life. To be honest, he very much lived his life to this point with no real plans. After his first roles as a child actor, after he was grown enough to make his own decisions about his life without his parents pressuring him into it, he just thought ‘ _ I might as well continue thi _ s’ without having any idea how to actually navigate through life without someone telling him what to do exactly. He smiled happily to the camera, lips stretching uncomfortably, eyes burning from the blinking flashes and hoping that this will be enough just for now.

Sometimes he wonders that if this is really what he wants from life when the attention on him is too much when the paparazzi are watching every step of his, people always scrutinizing and criticizing him for how he looks, talks or exists. But at the end of the day, he loves acting and loves the spotlight.

Having been always under the spotlight, he’s never known other ways to live his life. Sometimes he longs for the quiet life of those who don’t have to always perform or to act a certain way for his image to be well and intact. But he loves acting, being able to express emotions and stories, to live lives that aren’t his. He likes having fans that look out for him, who truly care about him – even if they’re only attached his public image and nothing else.

But now, this 5 percent hangs over his head like the sword of Damocles, teetering on the edge of cutting him off from what he’s ever known and loved, easily destroying the fragile dynamics he’s built for himself. It can ruin everything.

But he has to put on a good face, a confident one, act like he doesn’t care about a thing and manage to talk his soulmate into agreeing to this seemingly thoughtless plan. It’s alright. It’s okay. He’s got this. Forging a shield of confidence, elevating himself from others so they feel oddly uncomfortable in his presence but still drawn to him is something he has been working on perfecting.

Jaemin takes a deep breath.  _ It will be okay _ , he repeats like a prayer,  _ it will be okay _ . Only two aspects of his grand plan can go wrong: either his soulmate decides they won’t contribute to the plan or the reaction of the masses won’t be ideal. He assumes that his soulmate’s life also turns 180 degrees with the revelation of the percentage, therefore Jaemin feels assured that they will somehow agree, even if a little unwillingly. It’s mutually beneficial for both of them. His plan might sound a little bit like overstretch but it’ll probably work. 

Not probably. Certainly.

It  _ has to _ work.

He lays his hands on his shaking knees, trying to calm down the nervous tick. He inhales for ten seconds, holds it, and exhales slowly. Donghyuck orchestrated everything. He has some wiggle room if his soulmate doesn’t want to play along, he has some time before the news would get out. If everything goes south, he’ll still have some time for a plan B. 

When the door opens, he holds his breath for a second. He might never have an interest in this soulmate thing, but this moment – this feels heavy and endless. This is the moment of change. That five percent will be the reality from now on, not just an intangible concept. It will put on the face of his soulmate, harsh and real. He knows that from now on, this is the person he has to call his soulmate. He feels hyperaware; maybe it would’ve been better not to interfere with the system. Maybe living in the blessing of the unknown would’ve been better than this. Spending the remainder of his life without knowing who that poor bastard sharing his 5 percent is, shouldering only his own burdens without having to deal with his soulmate’s. He has understandable doubts – what if his soulmate is an asshole? What if they will just never find the same tone, never click, never bond? It’s easily imaginable, seeing how little they match.

It would be nice, he thinks, to find at least a companion. He attempts to be realistic. They probably won’t be best friends ever or fools in love from the very first moment – their percentage is just too low for that. But someone who shares this awful experience with him, someone to talk to when things get too heavy for his shoulders to carry, someone to just understand. Donghyuck and Renjun are good friends, they try and support Jaemin but they just – don’t understand and they never will. 

Anxiety sits heavily in his stomach, making his breath short and the moments impossibly long. He tries to ground himself with the sounds of the birds outside of the window or the creaking of the door. He lets out a shuddering breath and collects himself. He cracks his signature smile – wide and toothy and too flashy to be real. 

In the crack of the door, a normal college student around his age peeks in, expression unsure as he contemplates on knocking on the door. His eyes, hidden behind glasses and his a little too long fringe, widen as they rest on Jaemin’s face. He quickly overcomes his surprise and he settles for an artfully neutral expression. He pushes more into the room, moving carefully like he’s afraid he’s walking straight into a trap. His dark eyes never leave Jaemin’s face.

“Uh, excuse me. I’m searching for Dr Jung,” the man finally says. There is something odd in the way he’s looking at him. Jaemin absentmindedly wonders if he’s a fan and he’s holding back. “She said I should wait for her here.”

Oh. It’s  _ him _ .

Jaemin’s smile widens and he hopes it doesn’t distort into a grimace. “Then I can assume that you’re here for your soulmate, right?”

The furrow on the other’s face sets deeper as he cautiously nods. He stays rooted in his spot, looking like he would bolt out of the door at any given moment. 

Jaemin stands from his seat, adjusting his jacket and putting on a show. The other watches as he moves across the room to stand right in front of him and Jaemin tries not to pay too much heed for that his possible soulmate flinches when he trusted out his hand for a handshake.

“Name’s Jaemin Na.” Jaemin doesn’t want to be big-headed but he’s pretty sure he’s a well-known name in the business. He is a former child star growing into something bigger – he’s not yet on the same level of recognition as his parents are but he’s on his way. But the look the other gives him mirrors no recognition as piercing black eyes stare into his own. Jaemin fights down the urge to pull back his hand and asks, “And you?”

“Jeno Lee,” he says and accepts his hand in a handshake. It strikes Jaemin that Jeno also seems a bit disappointed, which is crazy. Jeno’s eyes run over his form, on the clothes that were handpicked by the combined forces of Renjun and Donghyuck for this very moment to impress and considers him with a deadpan expression.

Maybe Jaemin feels a bit petty, how disdainful the other's gaze is but he can't help himself – he gives Jeno a once-over, eyes stilling on the engulfing hoodie and the baggy sweatpants that hide his body and says, “What a fancy attire to meet your soulmate in.”

Jeno is like every other person on campus, a black mop of hair, under metal wire glasses a pair of tiredly glinting eyes, grey hoodie threw on, unmatched with a pair of comfy black pants – and Jaemin thinks it was a waste of time to trying to impress his future non-soulmate. 

Jeno stills for a second, studying Jaemin's face. Jaemin is not the type to get nervous under anyone's gaze – he thrives on attention, after all – but the way he can't read anything from Jeno's dark eyes makes him feel a bit itchy.  _ This is awkward _ , he concludes in his head. Jaemin planned to be open and welcoming, alluring his soulmate into the plan like sweet honey traps a fly but this Jeno kid unsettles him and throws him out of the loop. He’s not used to this level of apathy – hate, he can work with, but Jeno gives nothing away except that momentary disappointment from before.

Jaemin has half a mind to just play it off. To tell Jeno that Dr Jung will be here soon, she’s just got held up in a meeting. Jaemin has to admit he was waiting for  _ more,  _ expecting more. He counted on his fame to get his soulmate buttered up for a bit, making them dizzy enough to explain the situation and his crazy plan and they would agree. Now, Jeno doesn’t remotely look like he even recognized Jaemin, neither does he look swayed by Jaemin. He looks pensive the more he searches Jaemin’s face.

“You’re my soulmate, right?”

There goes his plan on escaping.

To mask his surprise and to satisfy his flair for dramatic behaviour, Jaemin walks back his seat, plops down and crosses his legs. A tight smile stretches on his lips. “You’re a smart cookie, aren’t you?”

Jeno shakes his backpack off from his shoulders, letting it fall on the ground with a dense  _ puff _ . He takes the seat in front of Jaemin, immediately looking smaller like he shrank in front of his eyes. Jaemin can see that it takes him time to persuade himself into talking again but he waits patiently.

“Are you sure?” Jeno asks when he settled down. “Shouldn’t we wait for Dr Jung?”

Jaemin gestures with his hand, dismissing the idea.

"Now, I'm happy you figured it out so quickly, that saves me tremendous time. 

Since there's no need to beat around the bush, let’s break it down," Jaemin says, voice void of any kind of emotions. What he needs now is to stay passive, to see how Jeno reacts and corner him on that. "We  _ are _ soulmates, confirmed by Dr Jung and this whole soulmate research circus. But here's the catch – we match exactly 5 percent." 

Jeno gulps but there's no significant change in his expression.  _ Dude’s got a good poker face _ , Jaemin concludes in his head. 

“Excuse me?” Jeno clears his throat and pushes up his glasses. There’s something urgent in his moves. “I've never heard of matches that low. There must be a mistake.”

"Yeah, been there, done that. I demanded a rematch but it gave the same result,” Jaemin sighs and shrugs. “So here we are. The jokes of the universe." 

Jeno doesn’t look devastated. He doesn’t look nervous, nor cheated. He doesn’t look like anything but a freaking blank wall and Jaemin ponders just what this guy needs for a proper reaction. Seems like a stranger showing up, claiming he’s his soulmate and suggesting that their lives, without better words, are down the toilet doesn’t work him up. He absentmindedly wonders if he’ll just blow up later.

“And what now?” Jeno asks, unfazed. “You must have a plan.”

Jaemin, just slightly annoyed, cocks his head to the side. “What makes you think I have a plan?”

“We are not supposed to meet if we’re under 45 percent. It’s in the contract,” Jeno waits for a second for Jaemin to defend himself but when it doesn’t happen he continues with an amused curl of his lips. “If you’ve read it, of course.”

Jaemin didn’t but Dr Jung had already told him. “Of course I have.”

“So?”

Jaemin doesn’t know why he feels like he needs to tiptoe around Jeno. There is something calculative about him, watching and storing but not letting on anything. He looks like he doesn’t care about this, doesn’t care about their lives going haywire, and doesn’t care about people turning against them for a number. Jaemin feels nauseated. 

“So?” Jeno repeats a bit louder.

“I’m sorry, but are you alright with this?” Jaemin’s voice slips higher than he intends to but he continues. “I mean, this is kind of a big deal and you sit here like we’re only talking about the weather. Do you really don’t care?”

Jeno stays quiet for a moment, regarding Jaemin with an unreadable gaze. 

“It’s not that I don’t care. But I don’t feel comfortable sharing my thoughts and feelings with a stranger.”

Okay. Ouch.

Maybe Jaemin feels the same but he has the decency not to say it aloud – he just hides behind brilliant white smiles and a happy-go-lucky persona. But still, Jeno bluntly saying that with that blank expression of his, Jaemin wants to shake him to just see a slight change in his expression. Maybe it’s time to say goodbye to his naïve views of finding companionship in his soulmate. As far as it goes, he’ll be happy if Jeno accepts his plan without a hitch. 

“Nice,” Jaemin’s voice is colder than intended. “We’re strangers all right. I can feel already that we’ll have a great time together Jeno Lee.”

Jeno arches an eyebrow. “How come?”

“You were curious about my plan,” Jaemin leans closer to Jeno like he’s sharing some super-secret conspiracy theory. He sees himself reflecting on Jeno’s glasses and he looks just a tiny bit unhinged, which is far more acceptable than he really feels like. “I propose we act like we’re together.”

Jeno’s about to open his mouth in protest but Jaemin cuts him off. He holds up a finger to make Jeno let him speak.

“Listen, I know it’s not ideal. But it’s only a matter of time that our percentage gets out to the media – and it’ll surely blow up. People think that there’s no way we can be happy together with that matching level but if we prove them wrong, we can maybe change their minds. If we continuously flaunt that we’re happy and in love despite having a number so low, they have to think about it. We can start something, Jeno.”

Jaemin feels his cheeks heating up with passion as he recites what Renjun wrote for him to persuade his soulmate into agreeing. It’s a bit dramatic, Jaemin thinks, but it might work. 

After a long moment of consideration, Jeno says, “This doesn’t make sense.”

“It does. I’ve read countless articles about low-level matches being happy or high level matches never getting together and it all burned down to one thing – this percentage thing is bullshit. But no one speaks up against it because it’s just so integrated into our minds that this number makes the person that we don’t raise questions. But what I saw was that there is a silent rebellion against the soulmate system that is brewing under anonymity,” Jaemin gets into it more and more, and his fingers dig into the armrest of the chair hard. “We might be the catalyst of change.”

Jeno scrunches his nose up. “Are you always this dramatic? What’s this us-against-the-world kind of chick-lit you’ve come up?”

Jaemin swears his eyes are not ticking from anger.

“Jeno, we’re talking about 5 percent. We’re about to lose everything,” he snaps. “Are you going to sit back and wait for it?”

“Isn’t it better than going out, flaunting a relationship that doesn’t even exist while we wait for the good graces of the public to accept us? And then what Jaemin? What if they accept us? What if they don’t?” When Jaemin doesn’t respond to his questions, Jeno stands up and grabs his bag from the floor. “I kind of see why they made the no-meeting rule. You could’ve saved me a ride here.”

Jeno starts for the door without saying goodbye but Jaemin shoots up from his seat and grabs his elbow. The grip on the other’s arm is tight and Jeno tries to shake it off but Jaemin doesn’t let him. 

“I’m not thrilled to meet you either, Jeno Lee, not in this scenario at least. I don’t even know you and you already get on my nerves.” Jaemin wills his hands to stop shaking and exposing the turmoil that goes inside of him. “But I’m willing to try and fix this situation so I can keep the things that are important to me – friends, family, and career. Do you have any idea what it means having the lowest percentage ever recorded? I’m not ready to lose them, yet. And if the only way to keep them is by going out with you for others to think that the system we live in is wrong, then I’ll do it. So why won’t you?”

“Very heartfelt,” Jeno says bitterly. Jaemin slips off his hand, letting him go. “Do you maybe have something honest to say? I mean, these pre-written little speeches are very melodramatic and cool but I’m not really into them. Good acting, though. I appreciate it.”

Jaemin is about to strangle him. He steps closer to Jeno until they’re eye-to-eye and he narrows his eyes.

“Do you need something honest? You are being difficult and super annoying right now.”

Jeno nods, a slightly amused look on his face. “Good. I feel the same.”

“Now, listen to me carefully. I don’t know if this plan works, it depends on too many things but what I know is whether I like it or not, I need your help. I want to keep my career and I don’t really care what kind of superiority complex you have but please think it through,” Jaemin forces his voice to remain as cool as possible. “It’s mutually beneficial.”

“No, it’s not,” Jeno says, clearly losing patience. Jaemin wants to press on that, liking to rile him up, to see a reaction. Jeno runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, giving his a dishevelled look that finally breaks his unnaturally calm surface. “You want to drag me into the spotlight because you want to continue to act. But if everything goes wrong and the public doesn’t respond to us favourably, you’ll still have something to fall back on. I’ll lose everything. So no. It’s beneficial only for you.”

Jaemin stops for a moment and he lets his shoulders drop. This is draining him. In a softer voice, he answers, “No, Jeno Lee. You’re wrong. No matter how you try to avoid, this is going to be big. Whether you decide to be part of my plan or not, you’ll get dragged into the spotlight. Everyone will know your name, your face – and your percentage.”

Jeno presses his mouth into a thin line. He steps away from Jaemin, ready to leave again.

“Look, I can pay you for it,” Jaemin calls after him, massaging his temples. This is his last card, something he doesn’t have too much hope for. Donghyuck threw it in as an idea and Renjun immediately rejected it – but Renjun was wrong with his swaying words so Jaemin might as well try it. “I don’t know if you’re a student or you’re already working but I can pay you.”

This halts Jeno’s steps and Jaemin perks up. 

“How much?”

Interesting. 

Jaemin feels like himself again. He’s in control, making the final bet. He rounds Jeno, looking him up from head to toe. Money is not the problem, it was never the problem. His parents finance him pretty well in-between movie deals and he gets his fair share from his own roles. All the previous fighting spirit seems to have left Jeno because he visibly deflates under Jaemin’s watchful gaze.

“I don’t know, Jeno Lee. How much?” He knows he’s pushing it. He’s being too cocky now that he has the upper hand. He cannot read Jeno – he might just up and go without a word because Jaemin couldn’t hold back being petty. 

“I most probably can’t stay in my scholarship programme with this percentage. So if I were to say, tuition,” he starts carefully peeking at Jaemin’s reaction. Seeing no concern on the other’s face he adds, “And rent, what would you say?”

“Okay.”

Jeno’s eyes widen at the easy agreement.

“And in exchange?” Jeno prods, growing suspicious of the offering.

“We’ll act like a couple. You’ll have to come on dates with me,” Jaemin says and as an afterthought, he adds, “publicly.”

“That’s all?”

Jaemin leans on the wall and crosses his arms. He cannot blame Jeno for thinking this is a trick – but Jaemin is desperate. But he can’t let that show on his face. If he plays his cards well now, Jeno might agree.

“Yeah. In public, we go on dates, talk about each other when asked, post on social media about each other and etcetera. Like we’re really together. Behind the cameras, we can keep the distance and all that yadda-yadda,” he explains. Then an idea strikes him and he gasps. “I can’t believe I’m about to become a sugar daddy.”

Jeno lets out an amused snort. “Oh, shut up.”

Jaemin freezes.

“Did you just laugh? Did it hurt?” Jaemin asks with a lopsided smile. Jeno rolls his eyes, face setting back into a blank state. “But if I’m a sugar daddy that means—” 

“No.”

“You’re a sugar baby, Jeno Lee.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything but throws his bag on his shoulder and sends a dirty look for Jaemin. He feels weirdly satisfied by throwing Jeno out of the loop, seeing at least annoyance on his face. Everything is better than the rigidity he was facing from before.

This time when Jeno reaches the door, Jaemin doesn’t call him back. He doesn’t have any more wild cards. Jeno hasn’t agreed yet but he hasn’t said no either. From what he saw today, Jaemin decides to count it as a small victory and quietly dreads the time he has to spend in the upcoming weeks – or months, Jesus – with Jeno because this isn’t going to be easy. 

Jeno’s hand stills on the knob. He reaches into his pocket and pulls his phone out. 

“Hey, catch!” is all the warning that Jeno gives before throwing his phone to Jaemin. He scrambles to catch it, the phone almost slipping through his clumsy fingers but he’s got it. Complaints are about to spill from his lips when Jeno says, “I can’t give you an answer now. I’ll call when I decide.”

Jaemin automatically punches in his number, saving his name as ‘soulmate’ with an excessive amount of hearts just to annoy Jeno and calls his own phone. Just in case. “I prefer texting. And don’t take too long.”

As he finishes, Jaemin walks up to Jeno – he wouldn’t risk throwing the phone back – and hands him the phone. 

He lets a wicked smile spread on his lips and says, “Goodbye, soulmate.”


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean I get kicked out of the scholarship if my soulmate percentage is below 45 percent?” Jeno almost shrieks. He tries to keep his voice quiet but this is important – it is the make or break point of his life. If he doesn’t have the scholarship, he won’t be able to finish his degree and he won’t be able to work in his field and live happily after and his life would be ruined. He crammed nights, sometimes almost in tears from the lack of sleep, heart beating wild because of the immense amount of caffeine he was consuming. He gave up his social life for perfect grades, to keep up is GPA for this moment – and now he’s facing some crisis. 

“Jeno, I’m sorry. This is the practice,” the head of the department apologizes but her expression shows no remorse at all. He used to like her as she was helping Jeno out here and there because she saw potential in him. But now, she looks at him with no recognition in her eyes, like Jeno is no one important just another annoying student.

Jeno’s eyes slip down at the paper he’s holding – his scholarship form neatly filled out with his scrawny handwriting and a big red stamp telling him it’s rejected. The reason is given on the bottom of the paper: _low percentage_. The words settle in his stomach awkwardly, and his brain unhelpfully flashes back the image of Jaemin Na’s face. He rubs his sore eyes to get rid of the picture.

“What does the scholarship have to do whether or not I have a suitable partner?” 

Mrs Shin leans back in her chair, her eyes scanning Jeno. From the slight downturn of her lips and furrow of her brows, he can see the disdain that is building up in her. 

“We want to give a scholarship to those people who have a high chance of leading a happy life. And the partner has a lot to do with that,” she explains patiently like she’s talking to a child. It irks Jeno because, since the day Professor Shin began to mentor him, she treated him as an equal. And now she acts like this.

The paper crumples as he tightens his fist on it. He can feel his otherwise calm demeanour melt away, leaving him with searing anger. “This is some real bullshit.”

Mrs Shin no longer tries to hide her distaste with Jeno. Long gone the times when they grabbed coffees together to build an odd mixture of mentorship and friendship. She doesn’t look like the professor he’d known, handpicking talented students to smooth their way to success. It took one number to change that. 

“Mr Lee, I have to ask you to leave my office,” her voice is hard and stony. 

Jeno doesn’t have to be told twice.

“Happily,” his voice is acidic as he says. He grabs his belongings and shuts the door with a loud bang. 

He might have been overconfident when he submitted the scholarship form the moment he got to know of the existence of his soulmate. He should’ve known he’s that unlucky bastard that never gets what he wants from life. But no one can blame him for it – he’s been waiting for that moment to happen since he turned old enough to get into the soulmate system. 

Screw Jaemin Na and his stupid plan. 

He thought he might have a chance to win the scholarship. To finally stop waiting tables at the restaurant nearby campus and stop making coffees at the café in the university library. So he could stop juggling studying and work, to stop giving up sleep to make the deadlines. He submitted the form when he got the call from Dr Jung, telling him they’ve finally found his soulmate – and of course, his mind filled out all the gaps. A meeting meant that he’s over 45 percent. He didn’t exactly expect to be caught in the mind games of Jaemin. 

His phone buzzes for the nth time that day.

**from: Mork**

hey 

how did it go?

answer!!!!!

oh u must be busy with you s/o 

hahaha

get back to me asap

heejin told me to ask again how it went

she wants to pretend she doesn’t care

don’t be late from the scholarship meeting!!!!!

how did it go???

i can see you’ve seen the messages

ANSWER YOU COWARD

Jeno pockets his phone. He doesn’t have the energy to answer his way too enthusiastic friends. What he needs right now is 20 hours of undisturbed sleeping while he wallows in self-pity. 

*** 

Jaemin Na was right. It was only a matter of time before the news of the lowest matching percentage ever gets out to the world. When Jeno woke up from his nap, he reached for his phone to check for new texts and to scroll through his social media feeds. Now, Jaemin’s face smiles back at him from every news outlet, pink hair and too many teeth with different sensationalist titles Jeno finds himself frowning upon. He lets out a shuddering breath whenever he reaches the pictures in the articles, waiting for his own tired eyes to look back at him. His hands shake, scanning the articles for his name, for a small detail he can recognize to describe him.

But no, he’s not mentioned so far. He might count himself as lucky.

His phone pings suddenly, signalling an incoming text. His eyes fall on the name of the sender and he groans loudly.

**from: don’t pick up (Na)**

told you so

if you haven’t yet, check the news

Heejin likes to joke that Jeno is just a rock. Living, breathing, slightly soft but a rock. Or at least has the emotional intelligence of a rock. She likes to exaggerate things but Jeno is also aware he’s not the most empathetic one out there. He spends too much time cooped up in his own head, dealing with his anxiety and overthinking tendencies to have the energy to deal with others’ emotions. That’s why he doesn’t really let a thing out for others to see as well, hating the idea of being a burden for someone when he cannot help the other. His cool and stoic demeanour which he uses as a buffer zone to keep himself safe and sound doesn’t really help. Having known each other since they were kids, Mark can see through him pretty well but he also lacks the finesse of taking care of someone. Heejin, on the other hand, had a hard time adjusting to both of the emotional disasters he and Mark are but she came around.

So he’s just not really good at dealing with emotions. 

But looking at the text, he cannot help wondering if Jaemin is okay. It’s his picture, his name out there with that damned number used in connotation with. Now he’s the one shouldering the backlash for the both of them – and Jeno feels it’s unfair. Even though he dreads being known publicly of having a 5 percent match, he feels bad leaving Jaemin in this mess alone. He’s not the soulmate that Jeno imagined for himself; he’s too sharp, too loud, too selfish for that – but still, it’s not his fault the universe slotted them together.

Jeno’s about to type out a ‘you ok?’ but he holds back. Jaemin doesn’t possibly need concern from a nobody. He must have enough friends to help him through these times, enough fan support to last a lifetime. He doesn’t need another nameless figure asking after him. So he settles for something easy, something inside his comfort zone. 

**to: don’t pick up (Na)**

k

Immediately, there is another _ping_.

**from: don’t pick up (Na)**

>: ( 

k, he says

have you thought about the offer?

**to: don’t pick up (Na)**

i did

**from: don’t pick up (Na)**

and???? 

He throws his phone on his nightstand. 

He would be lying if he said he hasn’t been playing with the thought of accepting Jaemin’s offer. It’s easy money, all he has to do is let the paparazzi and fans follow them around during fake-dates while he somewhat tolerates Jaemin Na’s antics. He assumes, he’ll have to kiss him too or at least play lovey-dovey with him which leads to a problem. Jeno’s not sure he can do that – to act like he’s in love. 

Also, would he need to give interviews? Would he be questioned and roasted by aggressive reporters who don’t care whose life they’re ruining as long as the story sells? Would he be exposed, chewed inside out for just existing? He’s not qualified bearing these kinds of things. What if he slips up and Jaemin’s career is over? He might not be fond of the other but he doesn’t wish him to break his career which is clearly important for him.

He decides to look for any kind of alternative method to get money before accepting Jaemin’s offer.

He just took a nap but he’s already feeling drained. He decides to ignore Jaemin’s message for good – he doesn’t trust himself to think straight while talking. And he doesn’t have an answer yet.

His phone goes off a few times after that but Jeno ignores it. He wouldn’t put aside Jaemin to try to annoy the answer out of him. But then, it’s kind of rude leaving him hanging like that – Jeno would hate that if it was the opposite situation. Even if he doesn’t have an answer yet.

But it’s not Jaemin. It’s from Mark.

**from: Mork**

hey, I just heard the news from prof shin 

sorry jeno

call me if you need anything

Anger flashes in Jeno. This is some bullshit. Professor Shin has no business spreading his secrets so easily, even if to his friends. It’s not a that hard concept to grasp – not talking shit behind someone’s back. And it’s no laughing matter. While Jeno has enough experience in being invisible on campus, a piece of news like this spreads like a wildfire. If Professor Shin intends on giving exclusive information on him for every person, things will get ugly real quick. 

Also, the way Mark wrote to him doesn’t rub him well. The Professor and then Mark – why are people acting like some part of him died with the revelation of the number? It doesn’t matter for him – he was never looking for the soulmate aspect of the thing. He always fancied the idea of just meeting someone out of the blue and _click_ with them immediately. 

He loves Mark with all his heart and he’s a great friend but he sucks at comforting people. Once Jeno had a panic attack from the impending stress before his presentation and Heejin had to burst into the male restroom to help him with breathing exercises because Mark just froze. Jeno knows Mark probably meant well but this is not helping.

What he needs is thinking things through, having time to accept whatever the consequences of the revelation of his number are, to find a loophole where he doesn’t have to agree to a ridiculous offer like Jaemin Na’s. 

He pulls his comforter over his head. He still feels a bit remorseful for leaving Jaemin to face with the backlash alone. Jaemin was – weird. An odd experience. Meeting him felt more like an idol gracing the humankind to be celebrated and loved. He radiated that otherworldly arrogance that Jeno likes to stay away from.

Of course, he knows Jaemin Na. He’s a regular in cinemas, he watches Netflix and Heejin overshares about whatever celebrity she’s momentarily in love, so he has a pretty wide range of celebrity knowledge, if he can say so. He’s just… not impressed by them.

When he’s about to lock his phone and hide it under his pillow, his phone goes off again with another series of pings.

**from: Heejin**

sucks to be you rn i guess

call if you need hugs

love u

Heejin, sweet, smiley Heejin. 

Panic settles in the pit of Jeno’s stomach. He never thought about how serious this number business is – for him, it just never mattered really much. But when even Heejin offers him comfort, it means something.

Heejin is a tough girl, sharing similar issues with him. This is why they work as friends so well – and it is the same reason why they didn’t work as a couple. She knows exactly where Jeno’s boundaries lie and she respects them, not like Mark and his benevolence stumbling over them. And when she decides to cross these boundaries, offering support when she knows Jeno hates pity and hates to look weak – he knows maybe, maybe this is larger than he thought. 

*** 

Jeno looks at the job advertisement and he doesn’t even waste his time by reading it. He sees the number 40 blaring at him, mocking him like he’s some kind of an idiot for even considering it – it’s not even a good job and it doesn’t pay well but Jeno’s desperate to find something, _anything_ that could help him out with his rent for the next month. He thought about lying for future employers about his number but then he realized that it’s stamped next to his name from the moment it was revealed. He’s no longer Jeno Lee, 21 years old architecture student but Jeno Lee, 5%. This is his life now.

He shuts his laptop with a bit more force than he intended to and pulls his blanket over his head. This is a nightmare. All the existing jobs look for people with at least 40 percent – and managers don’t even want to hear about people below that line. He puts out tutoring advertisements but the second question is always, _‘And what’s your percentage?’_ like it mattered, followed by a stretch of awkward silence and then the line is broken. 

When leaving the meeting with Jaemin Na, Jeno seriously thought he can wing this. That somehow he’ll get out of this mindless plan that has been presented to him and he’ll just make his own fate. He expected that it’ll be hard – but he didn’t expect that it will be impossible. 

He doesn’t want to agree to the plan.

But also, Jaemin did promise him to pay his tuition fee and his rent.

Jeno buries his head into his pillow and groans loudly. 

When he closes his eyes, he sees Jaemin – all sharp jaw, sharper smile and even sharper eyes, bundled all up in an act of serenity and kindness. _Bullshit_ , Jeno concludes. Jeno treaded in softly while Jaemin exploded in his face, confidence oozing from him like sweet-tasting alcohol, ready to pull him in. He could see in the cracks of the act that there is something more hidden under the mask. 

Jeno likes to think he’s an honest man. He knows he’s not doing well among strangers and especially not with the likes of Jaemin. He also knows that his soulmate probably misunderstood his silence as something vile as it happened way too many times already, and he reacted accordingly. He clings to his act to the very end when Jeno’s bluntness just pushed him over his boundaries for a last honest remark. He could see then that the other was as annoyed as he felt.

Jeno never considered himself a hopeless romantic. He thought of the soulmate programme as something nice but an entirely unnecessary thing. Dating is nice. Being with your soulmate must also be nice. But it’s not his priority. 

His priority is getting through university without a gaping depth.

He was getting by, somehow, until this point. With 5 percent, things begin to look gloomy.

*** 

For his friends’ defence, they left him alone to mope for a total of 1 day, before showing up in the entrance door with food and alcohol in their hands, fake smiles etched on their lips. Jeno let them in reluctantly, thanking all deities that this year, he was able to find a small apartment for himself close to the campus for a reasonable price.

And also for their defence, they left the questions until they are drunk enough. Their strategy works well, Jeno thinks as warmth fills his body and puts his mind at ease. This won’t be good in the morning but sometimes he just needs to let go. He looks at his friends – Heejin, lying on her back, taking up all the space on the couch, making them sit on the floor instead, grinning widely at Mark, who has just lost a rock-paper-scissor game against her in who should clean up after this – and he feels content. Content being with them, letting them in and letting them stay.

“I can see on your face that you’re being sappy,” Mark calls him out with a grin. He reaches out for both of his friends to hold his hands, and begrudgingly both of them accepts.

“Jeno—” Heejin starts, rolling on her stomach on the couch to look at him. The sudden clearness of her gaze makes Jeno’s stomach fall. He’s not ready yet – he’s not ready talking about feelings, soulmates or Jaemin. He’s not drunk enough for that.

“How’s Yukhei?” Jeno quickly asks, changing the topic before Heejin could begin. He’s bleary-eyed from the alcohol and the apartment feels too hot. He grimaces when he takes a sip, hating the bitter taste on his tongue but liking the burn in his veins. 

“He’s – whatever,” Mark mumbles with a shrug.

“What happened?”

“We fought. He said,” Mark’s fingers whitened around the bottle and Jeno sees as Heejin’s grip on Mark’s hand tightens for support. He looks down at his sock-clad feet like it’s more interesting than looking at Jeno. “He said that I shouldn’t be this chummy with you anymore. Y’know, because of your number.”

Jeno tries to act like it doesn’t hurt. Mark already looks ashamed by his soulmate’s words, he doesn’t need Jeno making him feel worse. But what really hurt is that he and Yukhei were cool with each other, they used to hang out and he constantly tagged along with Mark in their small get-togethers. He’s like a gentle giant and still – the prejudices run deeply even in him. Even those who know him have a high chance of abandoning him for his number before he could drag them down.

Mark peeks at him from the corner of his eye, his brown eyes glinting with guilt and Jeno forces a small smile on his lips.

“He’s an asshole,” Heejin says, taking a swing from her beer. She looks like she has other things to say of this matter, judging from how she’s pursing her lips into a thin line but for the sake of both of them, she stays quiet. 

“No, he just… He just wants the best for me in his own way.” Mark places his bottle on the coffee table, wincing when glass meets glass louder than he intended. “He’s just – ignorant.” 

Heejin snorts, “Yeah, he’s an asshole.”

“I—I get it,” Jeno says tiredly, taking down his glasses to rub his tired eyes. His friends’ heads snap to his direction. “I get it if you want to stay away from me now. This is going to turn ugly and I don’t want you to suffer because of me. You know that I’d understand.”

He hesitates to look up at them because he fears what he’ll find in their eyes. He’s afraid when he looks at them, he’ll see relief to finally being freed from Jeno. He’s not saying these things to make them pity him. He’s honest with his words and tries not to bow down to the fear that is brewing in his with the thought of being abandoned in these times.

Too preoccupied with his thoughts, he doesn’t notice when Heejin got up from the couch and she tackles him in a hug.

“Are you stupid?” she shrieks. She pushes his cheeks together so he looks like a fish. “When I adopted your introvert ass to be my friend, I signed up for both bad and good times.”

“You can’t be serious, Jeno,” Mark eyes them from the side-line, not interested in getting into the bone-crushing hug.

“I just said—” Jeno begins but Heejin cuts in.

“We heard what you said. We just can’t believe that you said that.”

Mark sends him a big, toothy grin and flicks him on the forehead. “Getting rid of us will take more than a number.”

The sudden warmth he feels is suffocating him. He chokes on it, wanting nothing more than preserving this moment when things get hard and heavy. But he doesn’t have to, he realises, because this is not a momentary happening, his friends will be there beside him along the course of this bullshit that is going on. 

He’s not good with his words, he’s not able to express his gratitude but when Heejin peels away from him, he sees understanding in her eyes. 

But the look in her eyes quickly distorts into small crescents that promises nothing good.

“So, Jaemin Na,” Heejin says, drawing the syllables out. 

All the warmth leaves Jeno’s body at the mention of the name. He still doesn’t want to talk about him right now, and also, he doesn’t know just how much his friends know. “What’s with him?”

“He’s your soulmate,” she says and it’s not a question. Jeno’s stomach drops and it must be reflected on his face because Heejin’s smile widens into a self-satisfied smirk. “What? It was everywhere that he’s got a low number and I can put one and one together.”

Mark sucks in a breath and Jeno thinks maybe Heejin didn’t care to share her discovery with him. His eyes flit between each of his friends, looking for any sign that it’s a joke targeting him. After finding nothing, Mark asks with his voice higher than usual, “Wait. _That_ Jaemin Na?”

“Define ‘that’,” Jeno grumbles. He grabs a bag of Doritos and starts munching on it, avoiding giving away too much information. 

“Y’know! The actor Jaemin Na!” Mark exclaims, letting his inner fanboy take over. “Do you not know him?”

Jeno, of course, knows who Jaemin Na is. He binge-watches enough dramas and movies to know. He also doesn’t live under the rock. And, besides, he already met him because Jaemin thought dragging Jeno into a mess despite not knowing each other might help his career in the long run. He’s not really impressed by him.

“I know him,” is all he says. “We’ve met actually.”

Mark grabs his arm, almost vibrating in excitement. “What he’s like?” 

“I bet he’s hot,” Heejin says. Mark adds, “He must be nice, too.”

Jeno thinks back at the Jaemin he’s met. Hot, he gives it to him. He did look nice in his fancy clothes, even if there the mere sight of silky white shirt gave anxiety to Jeno because that alone must’ve cost a fortune. Nice, he’s not very sure about that. The short conversation between them didn’t imply a nice person but it also didn’t give him enough insight to judge what kind of person Jaemin is. He’s a bit fake, Jeno settles in himself, but aren’t most celebrities are? 

“He’s… _weird_ ,” Jeno decides to say, not wanting to judge him on the first impression. He’s not very fond of him as of right now but he’s not about to flaunt these feelings.

Heejin turns to Mark with a serious expression. “Five bucks that this will not last.”

“Have you actually seen him, Jeon?” Mark asks, scandalized.

“Yeah, hot but not Jeno’s type. Also, I know our friend here,” she pokes into the general direction of Jeno with her thumb. “Do you think this emotionally estranged gentleman will like the attention Jaemin’s very presence will bring on him?”

“Heejin, you can’t be serious.”

“Thank you, Mark, at least one of you is a good friend,” Jeno sends him a gratified smile.

“What? No!” Mark waves him off and narrows his eyes at Heejin. “He will put up with unwanted attention in the name of love.”

“Mark between us, who dated him? He’ll dip before the first obstacle,” Heejin says coolly and however Jeno wants to defend himself, it seems wiser to just stay quiet. “Also, he has an emotional depth of a paper.”

“I’m offended,” Jeno announces.

Mark pats him on his shoulder. “Don’t be. Heejin’s just being dramatic.”

“No, I’m not!” “So, how the bet sounds like Markie?”

“Bring it on, Jeon.”

Jeno hides behind his palms and groans. “Please stop betting on me. And also, it doesn’t make sense. We’re not even together.”

“That’s just the matter of time.”

*** 

Jeno takes out his phone and he unwillingly stares at Jaemin’s name for a few minutes. He still has a slight headache from yesterday night. He looks over his friends sprawled on the floor, in their sleeping bags, fast asleep. Yesterday’s reassurance of his friends sticking to him like bubble gum on the sole of his shoe pushed Jeno into some sort of artificial calmness regarding the issue. He decides that it won’t be any better or worse accepting Jaemin’s offer – he’ll be put on the spotlight either way, just as Jaemin said – and then, he might as well get something out of it.

His supposed match seemed like to know what he’s doing based on how he presented his batshit crazy idea with the utmost confidence. But right now, Jeno is quite short of money and that’s the one thing that Jaemin promised him – results aside, he would be handed a good scholarship and rent. Which is, hell yeah, motherfucking great. Except for the fact that for return, he has to date this actor guy and make it believable. Which is, less great. Especially because he has a hard time showing his real emotions, something that his exes liked to criticize him for after things ended, and acting out fake ones for people he doesn’t know just doesn’t happen to fall into his comfort zone.

Jeno’s not really fond of showing his emotions. He usually goes for smiling and acting happy because then people wouldn’t try to get him to talk about his feelings and stuff. He hasn’t got any problem with feelings – feelings are great, as long as he has full control over them. 

“ _You just suck at expressing yourself_ ,” Heejin likes to helpfully add whenever the opportunity arises.

Acting like he’s head over heels with a guy that might be _very_ attractive but everything else that he doesn’t like in people – loud, stubborn and selfish – it’s not really an easy thing for him. 

“Hey, it’s Jeno,” he says into the phone and he’s even surprised how cold his voice sounds. “I accept your terms.”

***

Jeno is almost bouncing with nerves as he waits for Jaemin to pick him up. He’s already regretting agreeing to a plan so senseless like this, already feels the disaster of this very night creeping up to him and it hasn’t even started. He isn’t usually this miserable before dates – but the knowledge of people waiting for them to show up, to be continuously photographed and talked about gets to him way too much. 

Also, Jaemin just gets him a little bit nervous, too. He gets under his skin too easily and that makes Jeno flighty. Since the phone call when Jeno accepted Jaemin’s offer, Jaemin keeps spamming him with useless facts about himself, from shoe size to favourite director and demanding the same information from Jeno. This makes him feel a bit panicky because – what are they going to talk about then?

He’s trying to pick a nice t-shirt when his phone buzzes.

**from: don’t pick up (Na)**

hey i’m here

i’ll go up

**to: don’t pick up (Na)**

NO 

**from: don’t pick up (Na)**

too late

He blindly picks a t-shirt and throws it on. He has no time properly cleaning up his apartment, which bore the traces of the remains of the three-day sleepover Mark and Heejin decided to hold. The least he can do is to pick up the chips bags from the floor and kick anything disgusting under the couch for future Jeno to deal with later. 

Amidst his last-minute cleaning spree, there’s a sharp knocking on the door and Jeno has half a mind to not open it. If he thinks about it, he can still change his mind about the deal with Jaemin as no transaction has been made yet. Yes, this makes sense. Jaemin can’t hold it against him for backing out of this without an explanation. 

Another row of knocking sounds, a bit more forceful than before.

“Jeno Lee,” Jaemin sing-songs from the other side of the entrance door. “It’s me.”

Jeno looks around his tiny living room, kicking a used sock under the couch as the last move. 

“My mother said not to open my door to strangers,” he yells, stepping into something sticky on the floor he doesn’t have time to clean up. “Go down, I’ll be there in a second.”

“Lucky for you, I’m no stranger,” Jaemin says loudly and Jeno can hear the self-importance in his voice. “I’m your soulmate.”

Jeno tears open the entrance door at that, looking around for any neighbour that might be grazing through the corridor and has the misfortune to be caught up in Jaemin Na’s antics. But there’s no one but the smirking bastard pushing through Jeno to walk into the apartment without asking. 

“Are you crazy? My neighbours might’ve heard that” Jeno hisses as he closes the door. He turns back to Jaemin, who already comfortably sits on the couch. He looks absurd in Jeno’s dingy living room and he’s ashamed of the state of his apartment – his mother would say ‘ _told you so to keep clean_ ’ if she were here. But there’s no hint of disdain on Jaemin’s face of the general clutter.

“That’s the point. You wouldn’t have opened the door if I didn’t do that,” Jaemin says, his eyes stopping wandering around the place and rest on Jeno. He looks more laid-back than before but Jeno notices how tiredly his eyes glint and the bags under them and feels bad for him – for reading the same articles over and over again that tell him he’s only a shooting star now, career bright but dying. Jaemin trusts a bouquet of peonies out. “Renjun said I should bring flowers.”

Jeno takes the flowers with unsure hands, afraid something is hiding between the petals. In close inception, there’s none. “Thank you, it’s very nice of you. Peonies are my favourites.” 

Jaemin pulls up an eyebrow, jutting his chin out in defiance. “Really? I wouldn’t know as you refused to tell me anything about yourself. I must be lucky then.”

“Why would you need to know?” Jeno snorts. He contemplates, as an owner of zero vases, if Jaemin would frown upon him placing these beautiful flowers into a glass from McDonald’s. He decides it’s better than leaving them to wither, so he pads out to the kitchen to grab one.

“Because, Jeno Lee, I want to see myself how little we match to really believe the facts,” Jaemin calls after him.

Jeno digests what he heard, then decides, “That’s… that’s valid. But also, people don’t have to like the same things just to match.”

There’s a small smile playing on Jaemin’s lips when Jeno places the bouquet on the coffee table in his lilac McDonald’s glass. “Oh Jeno, you fancy bastard. It even matches the colour of the petals.”

Embarrassed, Jeno feels heat creeping up his neck. “Shut up, I don’t have a vase.”

“I’ll get you one next time.”

“That’s perfectly unnecessary.”

Jaemin stands up from the couch, walking closer to his bookcase and looking around the titles and the pictures there. Jeno quickly runs a catalogue in his head, if he has an ugly photo of him and his friends out there – but no, that’s on the fridge. He hears a small gasp coming from Jaemin. He pulls back to show Jeno the picture of his three cats, then looks around like he has missed something from before. “Where are they?” 

Jeno takes the photo out of his hands and places it back on the shelf. “They’re at my hometown with my parents. Couldn’t bring them because my fur allergy is getting worse the older I get.”

Jaemin studies his face, way too close for Jeno to be comfortable. “I see where the 5 percent stems from. You’re allergic to fur, I’m seconds away to adopt a Samoyed,” he says with a sigh, and puts his hand on Jeno’s shoulder. With a deep, dramatic sigh he adds, “I’m sorry this isn’t going to work.”

Jeno shakes Jaemin’s hand off his shoulder, not liking practical strangers touching him. “Can we go now? Don’t we have a date or something?”

Jaemin’s eyes run on him from head to toe like it’s the first time he realized that they have places to be. Jeno dares a peek down at the randomly chosen shirt and it’s the one he’s got from Mark for his birthday, proclaiming PROUD CHRISTIAN DAD OF TWO with Heejin and Mark’s smiling face under it. 

“You want to come looking like this? I thought this is your PJ,” Jaemin purses his lips into a thin line. “Do you wear this often for first dates to sweep your dates off their feet with your dad qualities?”

Jeno folds his arms before his chest, hiding the title. He grunts, “It’s your fault, I had to grab something quickly and put it on. I’ll go and change my shirt.”

“Only your shirt?” Jaemin asks with an exasperated sigh, looking at the sweatpants on Jeno like they personally offended him.

“What’s wrong with my pants?”

“Everything.”

***

“Okay, first of all, we have to change you up a little bit,” Jaemin says, already vibrating with excitement. He sits in his armchair, legs crossed, eyes judging. Jeno feels like he should have another layer on, other than the thin white shirt he’s wearing since Jaemin’s penetrating gaze pierces through his body. 

“What do you mean?” Jeno furrows his eyebrows. He’s been dragged into this fancy apartment he guesses to belong to Jaemin because Jaemin ‘cannot trust him to make a good fashion choice’, which is _ouch_ , hurts and also, _fuck him_ , he rocks comfy clothes like it’s nobody’s business. The problem with being in his apartment and not Jeno’s is that Jaemin feels comfortable enough just to let out everything he might’ve held back. And Jeno is not ready for that.

“It’s makeover time!” he exclaims loudly. 

This is way too much energy for one person.

“No,” Jeno says simply, sitting down on the couch, trying to play his awkwardness down. Being here, in a practically stranger’s home, forcing himself to participate in this madness is over his comfort zone. When he looks back at Jaemin, he’s jutting his lower lip out. “What? Why are you looking like _that_?”

Jaemin deflates against his chair, his high energy leaving him rapidly, it’s almost scary watching. With a tired sigh, he answers, “I’m sad because you’re spoiling my fun.”

“Still, no makeover. This is not _The Princess Diaries_.”

“Wow, a man with taste. I see,” Jaemin slyly leans ahead, inspecting Jeno in a closer distance. It makes him feels squeaky but he wills himself not to move. He feels like Jaemin is looking at every pore of his, judging and storing what should stay and what should be changed. “It’s okay, nothing drastic. Just a little something that makes you stand out for the paparazzi. Maybe bleaching your hair blonde?”

“No.”

“Yes, maybe not blonde. What about a nice light brown? Nothing extreme, just to spice up this _burnout university student going through an early mid-life crisis_ look you’re sporting right now,” Jaemin jibes, pointedly running his gaze on Jeno’s body, making him feel self-conscious. He quirks an eyebrow. “Very attractive, though, I have to admit.”

Jeno doesn’t blink when he stares down on Jaemin. Blinking feels like giving an opening for a venomous snake and he can’t let that happen. Rather, he says slowly, “No thank you.”

“I could force you, y’know. As I’m paying for this,” Jaemin mumbles, running long fingers through his pink hair. Jeno’s about to open his mouth and contradict him, when a shit-eating grin spreads on Jaemin’s lips, sharp like a razor. “Never thought in my life that I’ll have to pay someone, especially my soulmate, to date me. Does this make me your sugar daddy?”

Jeno almost chokes on his own spit. He takes a sharp intake of breath, trying to will away the blush that is spreading through his body. His ears are burning and he just knows Jaemin’s enjoying this way too much.

Jaemin scrunches his nose, eyes never leaving Jeno. “Scratch that. I prefer the term of glucose guardian, though. I’m not into that daddy life. But if you are, no judgement.”

Jeno buries his face into his hands, trying to hide from Jaemin even for a second to collect himself. He lets out a strangled, “Please. Stop talking.”

Jaemin cackles loudly, his laughter echoing in the almost empty living room. 

Jaemin Na is a menace, Jeno decides. He is the type of person whom Jeno would most certainly avoid in his normal, everyday life. He’s loud, annoying and stubborn – personality traits that don’t match his own timid personality. It happened from a moment to another; one moment he was studying in the library, in the next Jaemin Na exploded into his life with his signature lethal smile and got way too comfortable since then.

“Why? Does it bother you, Jeno Lee?” Jaemin taunts, satisfied expression spreading on his face. He stands from his armchair, swaggering to plop down next to Jeno on the couch. Jeno absentmindedly wonders if Jaemin has a conception of personal space, because he leaves Jeno no breathing room. He leans even closer, his hot breath tickling Jeno’s ear as he whispers, “I’ve consumed 6 shots of espressos today. I’m invincible. You and your shyness have got nothing on me.”

“Give him a break, asshole. He’ll combust in a second,” another voice calls. Jeno’s eyes snap up to the man leaning on the doorframe. He has a smug vide surrounding him, from his carelessly windswept caramel hair against his pretty, tanned skin to his white shirt with enough buttons popped open to be considered inappropriate. Upon noticing Jeno’s attention on him, he throws a peace sign and says, “Hey.”

“Don’t ruin my fun, Lee,” Jaemin scowls, finally giving Jeno some mercy by moving away from him. Not far enough for Jeno to be comfortable, but far enough so he can breathe again normally.

The man moves into the vacant spot in the armchair, considering both Jaemin and Jeno. If Jeno thought that Jaemin gave off dangerous energy, he needs to seriously reconsider. He squirms under the watchful gaze that is resting on him and the stranger dares to give him an arrogant smile. 

“Seriously, stop it Na. You’re scaring the baby.”

Like being challenged, Jaemin latches into Jeno, an arm thrown around him and a cheek squashed to his shoulder. “But it’s so funny, he gets worked up so quickly.”

“Please tell me, by saying baby you don’t refer to me,” Jeno says tiredly. He takes off his glasses to rub his eyes. He’s feeling drained already and he’s spent only an hour together with Jaemin.

The man cocks his head to the side, giving Jaemin an unimpressed glance that contains the palpable sign of putting up with his antics for years already. He says to Jaemin, “You deserve to die alone.”

Then he turns to Jeno, quickly bouncing back to his smugness. “Who else would I refer to, though?”

Jaemin tugs on Jeno’s t-shirt to regain his attention. He pokes to the general direction of the man with his chin and carelessly like he’s being forced, he introduces him. “This is my manager, Donghyuck Lee. But don’t mind him, he’s just an annoying prick.”

“You’re also an annoying prick,” Jeno deadpans. Jaemin breaks away from him, clenching his chest with a hurt expression.

“Burn,” Donghyuck hoots, reaching his hand out for a fist bump. Jeno grudgingly mirrors the action. “Jeno, we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Are you behind this whole plan?” Jeno asks accusingly. Donghyuck looks like someone who willingly gives bad advice to his friends just for the shits and giggles, only to see everything unfold in front of him and say ‘I was just joking’.

Donghyuck snorts. “I’m offended you think I’m that stupid.”

“Hey! You said it’s a good idea!” Jaemin exclaims next to Jeno. Something similar to panic alights in his eyes as he stares at his manager.

“I’m the enabler, of course.” Donghyuck opens his hands like he’s waiting for an applause. Jeno’s slightly worried that these two dysfunctional members of the society found each other and the possibilities of how this will affect the humankind as a whole.

Jeno bites his lip. They seem to work well together, a dynamic that has been building over the years they’ve spent together. But as Donghyuck was privy into the information about their soulmate percentage, it raises the question – why doesn’t he repulsed by them? Here he is, bantering with Jaemin like long-time friends when the seriousness of the situation looms over them, waiting for a wrong move.

“And,” Jeno stops. His tongue darts out, wetting his lips. He doesn’t really know how to say it aloud without making it sound too real. Both Jaemin and Donghyuck watch him struggling with words stuck in his throat until he grits out the question. “And are you not worried?”

“About what, Jeno Lee?” Jaemin’s voice feels like a sharp knife cutting through the silence that settles between them. When Jeno looks at him again, he finds an entirely different man from before. Gone the playful glint from his eyes, the sharp smile adorning his lips and carefree demeanour. Instead, he grows colder by each passing seconds, dark eyes daring Jeno to continue.

Jeno doesn’t back down. He turns to Donghyuck to avoid meeting with Jaemin’s gaze. “About being associated with us.”

Donghyuck’s eyes carefully shift at Jaemin and Jeno knows he’s traded on a sensitive topic. He’s aware that this is not his place – it’s not his task to find out whether the friendship between Jaemin and Donghyuck weathers a blow like the revelation of them having such a low number for their soulmate percentage. But he needs to be sure if they can trust Donghyuck if he won’t sell them out for the media if he won’t turn his back on them. He’d rather get over this than later and be sorry then. Like tearing a plaster off quickly. 

Jaemin shoots up from beside Jeno, poised and chilly as he cuts across the room, leaving only the two of them behind. Donghyuck watches him go with an unreadable expression.

“I guess it’s a yes, then,” Jeno concludes. It seems to rouse Donghyuck out of his thoughts.

“No, it’s a no!” his voice is keen, his eyes wide and full of sincerity. Jeno accepts, without a hitch because while there is something oddly unsettling about Donghyuck, he looks like an honest man. His gaze turns back to where Jaemin left, expression softer and Jeno decides it’s a weird look on him. “He’s just – he’s not taking this well.”

Jeno furrows his eyebrows. “Jaemin?”

Donghyuck solemnly nods. 

Jeno thinks and struggles to recall even one moment when Jaemin wasn’t an energetic and annoying kid who deliberately trespasses on Jeno’s nerves. From blowing up his phone with an endless row of messages just to annoy an answer out of him, to the small lilt in his voice when he says ‘Jeno Lee’ just because he caught on how Jeno despises it. He tries to remember when Jaemin wasn’t all about snarky comments and smiles with too many teeth not to be threatening. He comes up with nothing.

“Are you sure?” Jeno asks again.

Donghyuck looks at him like he’s an idiot. “You’ve seen him just now.”

“I didn’t know.” 

Donghyuck offers him a wry smile. “I know it’s no better for you as well. But think about it in his perspective: one moment you’re surrounded with love and support from your fans and the audience in general, elevated and celebrated. Only for the next moment to be dropped into nothingness. Like you never existed.”

Jeno opens his mouth but he’s stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

“I see you’re talking shit about me behind my back again, Lee,” Jaemin spits in a low tone. Jeno winces. He hasn’t noticed when he stepped into the room. His palm is warm against Jeno’s shoulder blades and Jeno wants to pull away. “Can you please not spread misconceptions about me? Thank you.”

“But he was eating it up so well,” Donghyuck clicks his tongue. “What a pity.”

“That’s right, this is why I had to step in. Jeno, never trust one word of his. He’s a habitual liar.” Jaemin pulls his hand away from Jeno’s back and sits on the armrest next to him.

Jeno ponders if it’s really just a lie.

A smug smile stretches on Jaemin’s lips as he looks at Jeno, pretending the previous conversation didn’t happen. “So have you thought about that nice light brown for your hair?”

*** 

Jaemin thinks that’s what he did. He figured it out. 

It might be his best idea so far. And he’s got many. 

(Renjun would probably scoff right here and say something entirely inappropriate. Not that Jaemin cares when Renjun’s life choices include willingly spending time with Donghyuck.)

But Jeno stands in the door of Jaemin’s walk-in wardrobe, dressed in Jaemin’s clothes from head to toe – in a navy chinos and a white, short-sleeved shirt tucked into it. Donghyuck lets out a whistle, eyes glued to where the buttons of the shirt are popped open. Jaemin turns to him and snaps his fingers.

“You told me to be here for this. Let me appreciate him, at least,” Donghyuck scoffs but he dutifully snaps a picture of Jeno. Jaemin can tell Jeno’s uncomfortable – either from their undivided attention on him, Donghyuck’s inappropriate comments or Jaemin’s clothes – by the way his shoulders slouch and he plays with a button. 

Maybe Jaemin feels bad for him. He’s being dragged into the spotlight where everyone will gawk at him, everyone will know him and everyone will wait for a misstep to say ‘ _See, this is why a high percentage is important’_ as a cautionary tale. Jaemin has a thick skin and sometimes even he wears down on hearing all the people wishing for him to disappear like a shooting star, to wither in front of their eyes but Jeno – he’s too fresh-faced for this. But then again, Jeno agreed to do this so it’s not primarily Jaemin’s fault. 

It’s clear that Jeno feels like fish out of water, probably not used to flaunt his body in any way, judging from the sweaters and sweatpants he seems to be always wearing. With their similar height and built Jaemin’s clothes fit on him, even if a little tight here and there. He looks like a hot babe but Jaemin has the decency not to say it aloud. Some things are best if not said aloud. At least not yet.

“I look like a Chad,” Jeno says as he stares at himself in the mirror. He turns back to Jaemin with forlorn expression etched on his face. “Can I wear something… less business major frat boyish?”

“These are literally the simplest clothes I own,” Jaemin points out tiredly. They’ve gone through this motion – Jaemin putting together an outfit, pressuring Jeno into putting them on and Jeno finding some excuses why those outfits don’t look good on him. Which is bullshit because he looked incredible in every single one of them. Like right now, as he uncomfortably shifts from one leg to another, the material of the shirt stretches on his chest deliciously, earning a strong approval from both Jaemin and Donghyuck.

Jeno runs his hands through his hair, messing up his soft dark locks. He distantly reminds Jaemin of a lost puppy.

“Can’t I just go in my own clothes?” Jeno asks. 

“No one’s gonna believe we’re together if you’re showing up in sweats,” Jaemin sighs, for what feels like the thousandth time already. Donghyuck snickers beside him, snapping what feels like a thousand photos, probably to properly chew upon Jeno accompanied by Renjun. 

“No one’s gonna believe we’re together. Period,” Jeno begins walking back to the wardrobe to change out of the shirt. “After all, we match 5 percent. That’s not very convincing.”

“Well, we’ll make them believe,” Jaemin states with confidence he doesn’t really own. He takes out his phone while waiting for Jeno to dress into another fit, scrolling through the news to see himself smiling back on the screen. He scoffs, never in his life did he got so much media coverage – not when he was doing charity or when winning awards. He lets out a relieved breath when he sees that Jeno’s still nowhere mentioned in the articles. It’s better like that. They will introduce Jeno on their own terms, no digging from the hunt dogs of the big media outlets.

“I’m no actor, y’know,” comes the muffled sound from inside the wardrobe. Jaemin rolls his eyes.

“I have the talent for the both of us,” he says fervently. “So stop worrying and wallowing in self-pity and just accept this.”

“Is it too late to go back on the deal?” 

Jaemin massages his temples. “ _Yes_. You’re stuck with me.” 

“You’re in my prayers, Jeno,” Donghyuck yells. Jaemin shows him the finger. “You’ve got a very nasty case on your back, Lee. I’m not envious.”

“Excuse me, I’m a freaking blast to have around. You just want what I have,” Jaemin narrows his eyes. “A good personality.”

“Yeah, that’s why you have to literally pay me _and_ Jeno to even step in 10 feet radius to you. I wouldn’t really call that a good personality.” The smile on Donghyuck’s face would’ve been enough reason to just fire him on the spot but then, he would need to face Renjun wrath. 

“I really can’t decide if you like or hate each other,” Jeno calls. 

“Like,” Donghyuck answers at the same time when Jaemin says, “Hate.”

“You’re confusing me,” Jeno mumbles as he strides out of the wardrobe. Jaemin’s about to say ‘ _Yeah, I get that a lot’_ , but what he sees makes him bite the insides of his cheeks. 

“Hey, that’s nice!” A series of snapshot clicks originate from the phone in Donghyuck’s hands and honestly, Jaemin doesn’t find it in himself to scold him for it. A sly smile takes over his features when he realizes Jaemin’s been too mum. He turns to him, “Don’t you think, my dear friend?”

Jaemin gulps.

Jaemin put this outfit together just for fun. He thought Jeno would come out with a frown etched to his face at the sight of the way too tight clothes and Jaemin would just send him a few snide remarks before he gives him something less revealing to wear. Now, as the all-black outfit embraces Jeno’s surprisingly athletic form – Jaemin, as a first impression, though he would be a homebody couch potato and Jeno’s loose clothing didn’t help to deter him from the idea – and peeks of skin showing through the rips of his jeans, black turtleneck hugging him in the right places, Jaemin might be sweating a little bit. 

“Great,” Jaemin forces on a smile. “I think this is the one.”

Jeno grimaces as he looks at his reflection. “Are you sure? This feels –”

“I’ll stop you right there. You have your emo kid aesthetic and I also find this outfit, hmm, _lovely_ on you,” Jaemin leans back in his chair, shaking off this odd attraction to his soulmate and falling back to his usual dynamic. “I call it a win-win situation.”

Jeno takes off his glasses like it would make the clothes less revealing, juts out his lower lip while he contemplates. Jaemin watches it unfold in front of his eyes, deliberately avoiding Donghyuck and his taunting gaze. He sees as Jeno’s shoulders slump down and he takes a peek back at them, ears turning red when their eyes meet.

“Okay.”

***

“You’re quite cute, Jeno Lee,” Jaemin says out of the blue as he watches Jeno wolf down his dessert. Jeno stops the fork midway to his mouth to look at Jaemin, eyes narrowed, then around them. “No cameras. I’m just surprised. I thought you’re a tough guy.”

Jeno narrows his eyes. “Eh, now should I also praise you? Because I don’t feel like it.”

“Why can’t I compliment you without you being so suspicious? I literally said you’re cute and that’s all. I didn’t write love songs for you.”

“How am I cute? I’m just eating,” 

Jaemin rests his chin on his palm. He's being dramatic, he's aware, as he sighs tiredly. But he always had a flair for dramatics.

"Can't you like take the compliment and continue eating?"

"It's just suspicious coming from you," Jeno eyes him like any moment he might strike. Jaemin glances down on his watch - how come the paparazzi is late? He made sure that Donghyuck tips them off that they’d be there. 

Jaemin leans back in his chair, a glass of wine in his hands. He has no appetite. He’s too nervous of the upcoming shitshow, too nervous of the debut of his grand plan, too nervous to finally implement the theory to practice. He knows what he has to do – but will Jeno act his part perfectly as well? It depends on both of them.

“You—” “You’re cute too. When you scrunch up your nose. _Khm_ , it’s cute.”

“What a charmer, Jeno Lee.” Jaemin giggles into his drink, not fazed by praises. “I bet boys and girls hang on each one of your words.”

Jeno gives him a dirty look and Jaemin snickers. “Stop making fun of me.”

“I can’t if you keep getting so worked up.” 

Jeno is surprisingly pleasant to have around. He’s not a talker, letting Jaemin chatter through the night but he listens well and comments if it’s needed. He’s standoffish and awkward, but he tries hard not to flinch when Jaemin intertwines their fingers whenever the waitress arrives with their food. At first, he was reluctant to say more than a sentence to Jaemin but Jaemin sometimes plays his cards well and opens a topic that leads to a smile forming on Jeno’s lips – which is a very good look on him, he decides – and he grows animated. Also, he finds that Jeno takes an instant liking on whoever offers him food. 

“You can order more if you want,” Jaemin says, taking a sip from his wine. Jeno finished a three-course meal but Jaemin can see he still eyes the menu. 

Jeno blushes and pushes the menu away. “No thanks, I’m full. Thank you for the meal.”

Jaemin nods, “Donghyuck hasn’t texted me yet about the paparazzi, so we’ll have to stay a bit more if you don’t mind.”

According to their plan, Donghyuck tips off a few big media outlets about Jaemin Na and his secret 5 percent lover being on a date. They should be waiting outside of the restaurant for them while Donghyuck and Renjun also camp outside to text them when the plan is ready to make its grand entrance. 

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” Jeno pulls an eyebrow.

“Life is all about choices.”

“Wow, wise.”

Jaemin’s about to roll his eyes when he catches sight of a phone directed to their direction. A young woman panics and falters a bit when she notices Jaemin’s eyes on her but she doesn’t stop taking pictures. He looks away quickly and places the wine glass on the table. As naturally as he can, he puts his elbows on the table and leans closer to Jeno. 

“Jeno Lee. We’re being watched – show me your best flirting technique,” he whispers. Jeno furrows his eyebrows and he’s about to turn back but Jaemin places a hand on his cheeks softly. He runs a thumb on his cheeks for the outside effect and says, “Don’t turn back. It’s showtime.” 

“What am I supposed to do?” Jeno’s voice trembles as he asks, probably nervous of the sudden request. 

Jaemin pushes Jeno’s hair behind his ear and smiles softly. Jeno shudders under the touch but Jaemin doesn’t pull back. 

“You’ve dated before, haven’t you?” 

Jeno looks at him like he lost all his marbles. “Yes, of course.”

“Then do what you usually do.” 

Jeno stays quiet for a moment and Jaemin thinks he broke him. Great, just before the big time. He should’ve known that this awkward mess of a soulmate won’t cooperate him. Fear settles in his throat as he watches Jeno’s frozen expression, thinking that he messed up big time. Not only will he successfully destroy his own career with this stunt, confirming that a low percentage can never work but Jeno will be dragged into this without the possibility of ever having a normal life again, always haunted by the people of the media, chewed upon by hordes of people until they no longer find him interesting. Then they drop him.

Jeno moves, breaking his frozen state by placing a warm palm on Jaemin’s hand on his cheek. 

“Okay. I get this,” Jeno says finally, more to himself than to Jaemin. But it settles something in Jaemin, too. He takes off Jaemin’s hand from his cheek and places their hands on the table, intertwining their fingers. His voice trembles when he asks, “Is this okay?”

Jaemin lets himself forget his worries just for a few seconds to just enjoy the warmth of Jeno’s hand. He feels a smile stretch against his lips and he responds, “More than okay.”

Everything about Jeno is warm as Jaemin lets his eyes wander on him now that he has a reason to do so. His warm brown eyes bore into Jaemin’s, somehow open and still guarded at the same time as he’s saying _you can come in but please don’t hurt me_. He’s not smiling but his expression is welcoming and unconsciously Jaemin tightens his hold on Jeno’s hand. As he can see, Jeno is more into subtle touches and small meaningful glances than overly romantic gestures. Jaemin can work with that. 

Jaemin reaches for his glass and holds it up. Jeno, with a questioning quirk of his brows, mimics his actions, holding up his own glass filled with coke, claiming he doesn’t like wine. 

“For the plan to succeed.” 

Jeno lets out a small entertained noise. “I thought you’re confident in the plan.” 

“A little doubt hurt nobody,” Jaemin answers defiantly. 

With a small puff of laugh, Jeno clinks their glasses. “To the success of the plan.”

_This is nice_ , Jaemin thinks. Not the worst first date he’s ever had, which is _something_. He thought that there would be more rebelliousness from Jeno’s side as even though he went through the first steps of the plan without putting up a fight, he still complained in every second of it. But this Jeno, who shares about his cats and childhood stories with excitement glinting in his eyes seems incomparable to the Jeno he first met, who was all about hard-edges and one-word answers.

“You’re not entirely a nightmare to have around, Jeno Lee,” he decides to say.

Jeno shakes his head and laughs, hair falling into his eyes. Jaemin almost reaches out to push the stray strands away but thinks better of it. 

With an almost childish grin, Jeno says, “Cannot say the same about you.”

“Oh yeah?” Jaemin asks, placing his chin on the back of his hand, leaning closer to Jeno. “Well—”

He’s frightened out of their little bubble by the buzzing that comes from his phone. It’s Donghyuck.

**From: Chocoball**

they’re here

ready

action !! 

Jaemin reads the messages twice, just to have time to calm his nerves. He looks up at Jeno’s curious face, narrowing his eyes to read the name of the sender. 

“Jeno Lee, are you ready?” he asks, his voice a little winded. He feels Jeno’s muscles tense under his touch but he nods. He doesn’t let himself second question things because it will lead him nowhere.

Jaemin waves the waitress off to get their bill, leaving a handsome tip for her. Absentmindedly, he glances at the direction of the woman who was taking pictures of them but she’s not here anymore. He didn’t even notice it. 

Jaemin reaches out his hand – Jeno stares at it for a moment, before understanding takes over his features and takes Jaemin’s hand into his. They exchange a glance of mutual support before stepping out. 

Immediately, flashes blind them. Jaemin distantly hears a small gasp from Jeno and hopes it’s not too much for him – the yelling of Jaemin’s name, the pushing, the flashes going off. Jaemin hates this with passion because once the paparazzi starts taking his pictures, he feels like he ceases being a human to become an animal in the zoo. But he still smiles to the cameras, putting on a show of hiding Jeno, even though they’ve all seen his face already. He holds onto him tighter, letting go of Jeno’s hand to sneak an arm around his waist so it’s easier to navigate him around. In his hands, Jeno feels supple and easy to drag along like a rag doll.

Jaemin leans in to murmur into his ear, “Is it too much?”

Jeno turns his head, suddenly too close but he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are wide and scared.

“A bit,” he mouths back. Jaemin wants to tell him that it’ll be over soon -- but the things is, not really. It is only the start.

They pick up a quicker pace, to try to shake off the paparazzi. Some let them go as they are satisfied with the number of pictures they got on them. Some rush after them, not letting them stray away. Jaemin quickly takes a run-down in his head. If he lets the remainder of the paparazzi follow them without a real fight, they might get the idea that this was orchestrated beforehand. 

“We’re going to run,” Jaemin whispers again. Jeno beside him just nods and Jaemin isn’t even sure if he got the message. He lets his arm drop from Jeno’s waist and goes back to hold his hand. Glancing around the swarming horde of paparazzi around them, he counts from one to five before he says loudly, “Now!”

He breaks into a run, pulling a surprised Jeno with him. Jeno quickly regains his consciousness, and their steps fall next to each other. People stare at them as they push their way through, watching the two running away from a group yelling and photographing people, quickly pulling their own devices out to snap a picture or two. 

Jaemin, a little bit winded from the running, turns to Jeno with a wide smile. “This is fun.”

“F-fun?” Jeno sputters, looking at Jaemin like he’s crazy.

Jaemin peeks back at the paparazzi. They have a good advantage of them. He pulls in to a hidden alley and stops. Jeno almost runs into him but halts his steps just a moment before it could happen. They both pant, trying to catch their breath. 

“Is this your grand plan?” Jeno asks between gasps. “This is how you want to convince them that we’re good? By running away?”

Jaemin pushes up from where he was crouching. 

“Jeno Lee. I’m going to kiss you,” he says, marching up to Jeno. He can already hear the frenzy that comes with the paparazzi, only metres away. 

He can see Jeno’s about to say something else, probably something inappropriate for the situation, but they don’t have time for that. He steps closer to Jeno, caging his body between his own and the brick wall behind him. Jeno looks a bit alarmed by the sudden close proximity of him, so Jaemin gives him a few seconds. 

“Thanks for the heads up,” Jeno grunts. Jaemin snickers as he places both hands on Jeno’s cheeks, softly, not to frighten him away. He distantly hears footsteps pounding against the concrete but he’s focused on Jeno’s lips.

“Try not to fall in love,” Jaemin whispers against Jeno’s lips. A sober expression glides through Jeno’s face, ready to deny and scoff at the possibility.

He closes his eyes and dives in. Jaemin places his lips on Jeno’s, feeling how the other tenses up under him by the touch. He tries to ease him up, by running his thumb along his cheekbone, caressing the soft skin to lure him into reciprocating the kiss. He cannot blame him for this, though – when he was just starting out, kiss scenes also froze him. Jaemin tilts his head to the side for better access, in the back of his head realizing how Jeno’s glasses push into his skin uncomfortably the more he’s getting closer. 

After a moment, Jeno’s cheeks heat up under his touch and he springs alive. Jaemin smiles into the kiss, finally feeling Jeno’s movements against his lips. Jeno’s hands wander to Jaemin’s waist, timidly holding to the silky material of his shirt, shying away to properly grasp him. Now, _this_ is fun. 

Jaemin pulls away with a toothy grin plastered on his face, watching as Jeno’s eyes flutter open. His cheeks are dusted with pink when their gazes collide, quickly turning away – only to realize he’s facing cameras again. Jaemin tugs on his clothes to regain his attention, Jeno too dazed to respond to mere words. 

“Shall we?” Jaemin asks, nodding at the end of the alley where Donghyuck waits for them with the car. 

Jeno just nods and they run.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day when Jeno wakes up, the headlines are full of Jaemin Na and his mysterious lover. All articles mention the percentage and debate the ethical nature of their relationship. Some accuse Jaemin of being selfish, for not showing compassion and not posing as a model for other low-level matches – which is bullshit, Jeno thinks. Why should he be chastised for something as utterly human as falling in love? 

Jaemin doesn’t care. He goes on Instagram and posts a blurry picture he took during their dinner, artfully composed to have a small glimpse of Jeno on it, to really make people go crazy. Jeno takes his role seriously and comments a heart amongst the endless row of comments from fans. He’s curious how long it will take them to notice him.

Apparently, Jaemin notices him right away.

** From: don’t pick up (Na) **

don’t overdo yourself, lee

at the end they will really think we’re together

can’t let them think that

Jeno rolls his eyes. 

** To: don’t pick up (Na) **

thanks i’m doing my best

** From: don’t pick up (Na) **

hey, send a selfie 

i need it for background for my phone

something cute preferably

** To: don’t pick up (Na) **

no

Jeno feels like he’s lucky. He’s civil, the media can’t share his face and information without his consent. And while people close to him can put the pieces together, he can still live in relative anonymity. He recalls all the blinding and flashing lights as cameras were pushed into their faces, photographers pushing and cornering them – Jeno feels his chest tighten at the memory. This wasn’t the last time, though, and he has to harden himself if he wants to survive this.

He wonders how Jaemin does that. How he blooms under the watchful gaze of so many people who only want to see him wither. How he tolerates the cameras in his face, the questions that are aimed to bring him down, the fans camping outside his house to just catch a glimpse of him. Even now, when he has the chance to break away from this life, he fights tooth and nail to stay. Jeno doesn’t see the appeal in being in the spotlight. He doesn’t understand why Jaemin fight for fans who deserted him the moment the news got out, suddenly finding their personified god detestable. 

But he pays Jeno to do this and he’s aware that he doesn’t have the means to continue with his usual life without this financial help. His parents still don’t know about his percentage – he’s not ready to break their heart yet. Without a scholarship, he wouldn’t be able to continue studying, not when his parents’ small flower shop at his hometown is only getting by. And after graduating from university, what will happen to him then? Will he ever find a job? Or will his fate to be a burden on his parents for the rest of his life?

Jeno takes off his glasses. It’s not good to dwell on things like this when the future still seems so formidable. This is the reason why they’re doing this, after all. To change the public opinion – or at least start.

He opens his front camera and lays down on the bed, his black hair giving a nice contrast against his white pillow. He forces on a smile, which he deems believable enough and snaps a picture. He sends it to Jaemin.

** From: don’t pick up (Na) **

now, was that hard?

cute, anw

it’s my lock screen now

should i also send one?

** To: don’t pick up (Na) **

that’s not necessary 

** From: don’t pick up (Na) **

too late

[picture]

set it as your lock screen too

** To: don’t pick up (Na) **

will not do that thanks

He still opens the picture. It’s an overly cute one with a bunny filter, making Jaemin’s eyes wider and more sparkly than normal. If Jeno finds it adorable and sets it as his lock screen, no one has to know.

***

The problem with Jaemin Na is that he looks at everyone like he’s in love with them. He bats his ridiculously long eyelashes at the reporter and despite dealing with famous people on daily, she becomes flustered and Jaemin can transform the questions as he likes. He looks at every single fan of his and he sees them, talks to them like he’s their boyfriend because that is expected from him. He flirts, he talks sweetly, he listens – and the people, in turn, love him.

Jeno looks at countless of videos he found on YouTube, he stalks Jaemin on Instagram and reads his rants on Twitter. He’s not sure why he does this – maybe curiosity got the better of him. But all these snippets of the actor give a very clear picture to Jeno.

How fake Jaemin is.

There is no way he likes everyone. There is no way he happily smiles at someone who’s after him, to ruin his career, hunting for a misplaced word that can cause him to fail. There is no way he truly enjoys acting like a boyfriend for fans who grab him and tear at his clothes just so they can say they touched Jaemin Na. 

Jeno just doesn’t like fake people. He gets tired easily, trying to guess what their real feelings are, whether they enjoy spending time with him or not or if he’s looking too much into things. He usually surrounds himself with people who are the same. Mark Lee, who will tell you your mistakes to your face but does so sweetly it never hurts. Or Heejin Jeon, who is less careful with her words but she means well. Jaemin, on the other hand, says some snappy remarks just to bite into you and smile into your face brightly that makes you forget it. 

During the dates, too. He looks at Jeno likes he’s in love with him, touches and kisses him as he loves him. It’s messing with his mind. He’s not used to this and he tries to not to think about this – because it’s all fake and he cannot let himself be blinded with soft eyes and tender smiles. Not when Jaemin does this so easily, acting runs in his blood; he cannot be dumb and start liking the first person who shows him kindness.

He pushes his glasses up higher, watching a video of Jaemin, with his pale pink hair, sitting in a chair, poise perfect and smiles intact as he calmly responds to the question that targets his private life. When questions become too intimate that they make even Jeno squirm uncomfortably, he starts flirting with the host and suddenly it’s over. He talks about his movies and series, not answering the question anymore.

The video is cut off by a call. 

“What?” he barks into the phone without checking the caller ID. 

“Hello to you too, Jeno Lee.” Jaemin’s voice is low and rumbling, tickling Jeno’s ears. There’s a pause, probably leaving space for Jeno to redeem himself with a greeting but when Jaemin realises he can wait forever, he continues. “You know, I can’t fall asleep and I was wondering if it’s because of you.”

“What do you mean?” Jeno asks, confused. It’s not new, Jaemin talking nonsense. He is quite an unpredictable person.

“People say when you can’t sleep someone is thinking of you. Are you?” Jaemin sounds more self-satisfied than he has the audacity to. Jeno absentmindedly looks around his room, checking for cameras. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jeno tries not to sound too guilty. How the hell did Jaemin know this? Feeling a little creeped out, he gets up from the bed and walks to the kitchen. The patter of his naked footfalls and the low humming of the fridge gives him some reassurance.

“You’re not answering and it’s an answer enough.” Jaemin chuckles. “How are you spending this fine night, Jeno Lee?”

With a puzzled expression, Jeno takes the phone away from his ear, checking the time. It’s 2AM. “Why did you call?”

“I already said I can’t sleep. Keep up, Jeno.”

“Yeah, but why are you calling  _ me _ ?” Jeno wonders if he didn’t get the memo that they’re now no longer only colleagues but friends. Jeno might not hate Jaemin’s presence – he dated worse guys – but his endless teasing is something that gets boring real quick. He wouldn’t consider themselves any closer than colleagues sometimes oversharing about their lives since they never hang out on their own terms and Jeno doesn’t feel the same way toward Jaemin like he does with his friends.

He decided in the very beginning that it’s smarter to keep distance between himself and Jaemin.

“Don’t fret, you’re not the first person I’m calling. I’ve tried Donghyuck and Renjun, too but they’re maybe sleeping, maybe fucking – I don’t want to know,” Jaemin rambles. 

“Don’t you have more friends that you can annoy?” Jeno asks, grabbing a bottle of mineral water from the fridge. He doesn’t really understand himself – why he choose to entertain Jaemin instead to just simply cancel the call. 

“Nah, you three are the best to do that,” Jaemin dismisses him. He hears some shuffling from the other side of the phone. “So Jeno, how does a sought-after bachelor like you spend his night?”

“Watching videos.”

“Of?”

He cannot simply tell Jaemin he was watching videos of him. He’d hear no end to that. So instead he answers, “Of lizard people.”

There’s a second of silence, then comes an amused whistle. 

“You and Renjun would get along well,” Jaemin muses. “But lizard people, seriously? You were so secretive I thought you were jacking off at some cheap porn.”

“Goodbye Jaemin,” he says with finality in his voice. He tries not to pay attention to the burning of his ears.

“Ah, no! Don’t hang up yet!” Jaemin calls, weirdly alarmed. Jeno halts his steps. “Actually I called because I had nightmares.”

“Nightmares?”

“Uh, yeah. I know it’s stupid but I’ve been having these nightmares since I was a kid and it’s kind of scary and I cannot go back to sleep because then it’ll continue. I usually watch a movie or something to get rid of it but now it doesn’t seem to work and–” Jaemin takes a deep breath. “And I’m really  _ tired _ . I thought talking to someone might help.”

Jeno settles the bottle on the kitchen counter. The honesty and shame in Jaemin’s words scare him. Something about Jaemin not hiding behind sass and wide smiles, laughing his misery off like it’s something silly resonates with Jeno. It demonstrates just how badly these nightmares throw Jaemin off.

Jaemin misunderstands their silence and starts laughing but it sounds empty.

“Ah, sorry. I’m stepping out of line here, right? You didn’t sign up to be my helpline too. Sorry again, Jeno and good night—”

Panicking that Jaemin will cancel the line, Jeno blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind. 

“Do you want me to play you the guitar? It… it can be really calming.” Not receiving any answer, he adds, “I’m not good with words but I can play you something.”

“Yes please.”

When he puts Jaemin on speaker, he jokes of being a midnight DJ, conferencing Jeno up in his low voice. 

Jeno strums on his guitar all the songs he’s ever bothered to learn. Sometimes he hums along, forgetting that Jaemin is also there, hearing him but the music embraces him and calms his nerves. It’s been too long since he touched his guitar, too long since he last lost himself to the music. When he resurfaces again, he hears soft snores coming from the speaker. 

Trying not to make any loud noise, he puts the guitar down and reaches for the phone. 

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers before he cancels the call.

*** 

The next day when they’re on a date in some fancy coffee shop, they don’t talk about the phone call. Jeno decides that mentioning and teasing Jaemin over something he’s so clearly afraid of his an asshole move and they really don’t need to heighten their awkwardness barometer. Also, Jaemin looks less like himself than a hollow carbon copy with his meaningless talking and empty smiles.

“Jeno, please, look at me once the way you look at your food and we don’t need to convince the media that we’re real,” Jaemin sighs, sipping from his disgusting coffee. With each sip of it, he regains some spirit and Jeno’s grateful for that because he began to run out of topics he can throw in. It’s usually Jaemin who makes the conversation going, filling in the spaces that Jeno leaves.

Jeno, devouring a piece of cheesecake with a vigour that makes even Jaemin feel a weirdly motherly affection toward him, just sends him a dirty look. Jaemin smiles, like he’s charmed by Jeno – and it blooms on his lips surprisingly easily. 

Jeno looks like he hasn’t eaten in days. For a fact, Jaemin knows that it’s not the case, having fed him almost every lunch during these last weeks. Jaemin gave up long ago to force Jeno out of his comfort zone and his hoodies and sweatpants combo – he put up a good fight but Jeno’s simple apathy toward fashion came as the winner. He looks warm and soft in them, with his fluffy black hair curling at every way possible, glass perched on his nose.

Okay, he’s cute. 

But he doesn’t need to know.

“Do you want mine?” Jaemin asks, already pushing the plate towards Jeno, who accepts it with childish joy.

Truth to be told, Jaemin doesn’t like cheesecake. He’s lactose intolerant. Maybe he bought two pieces because Jeno’s too shy to ask for another but will eat it if it’s Jaemin’s. Maybe he does this so he can see the joy on Jeno’s face. Maybe, maybe not.

“About yesterday—” Jaemin starts, gathering enough courage to finally address it.  _ Sorry for bothering you  _ is already forming on his lips when Jeno taps his hand.

“It’s okay,” Jeno says. “Don’t feel bad about something you can’t control.”

And easily like that, he goes back to destroy the remainder of the cheesecake. 

Unbeknownst to him, there’s also something growing in Jaemin that he can’t control. But he refuses to feel bad about it.

***

Jaemin gives interviews. People are weirdly interested in his fucked up life – like it’s something so disturbing and grotesque that they can’t look away. It’s not a problem, Jaemin decides, as long as he can turn these articles on his own side. When the reporters try to set traps up for him to admit how hard his life became, how hard it is to date and love someone who only matches him 5 percent, he quickly distorts the question. He’s quick on his feet and doesn’t fall into these pity traps. Donghyuck also watches him like a hawk, acting as his publicist now that he’s the only one in his team who is privy to his dirty little secret. 

He uses these interviews to spread his fake happiness with his fake soulmate, fishing for empathy from the reading audience. He talks about Jeno, his little quirks he’s noticed, things they do together – and more often than not, he doesn’t even feel like he’s lying.

“Your act is superb,” Donghyuck compliments him after an interview. Jaemin waxed poetry about Jeno for half an hour when he noticed the reporter trying to repress a yawn and stopped. “It’s like you’re really in love with him.”

Jaemin laughs like it’s unimaginable. He’s not the type to fall in love.

*** 

Jaemin wonders if this warm, fluttering feeling that comes and goes at the mention of his fake boyfriend's name is normal. When he asks Renjun, all he gets is an unimpressed glare and a hiss of ‘ _ just when you became an emotional illiterate’ _ . He’s not emotionally illiterate, per se, but he just cannot seem to comprehend why he feels like this. 

All these fuzzy feelings came out of nowhere one time when he looked at Jeno and thought,  _ it’d be so easy to fall in love with you _ . He’s not sure when it started, these developing feelings – maybe when Jeno turned out to be a softie despite being so brute sometimes, or when he played the guitar for him when he couldn’t sleep. It is certainly not that ‘emotional bond’ that is rumoured to exist between high-level soulmates because he’s more attuned emotionally to Renjun than to Jeno as of now.

All tiny details built up into something that he’s afraid to call a  _ crush _ . 

_ Try not to fall in love _ , he whispered against Jeno’s lips at the first kiss and like the fool he is, he’s currently has a crush on him.

Great.

“Are you…  _ thinking _ ?” Jeno asks, amusement lacing his voice. He takes Jaemin’s hands into his, careful not to knock over the candle between them. “What a historical moment. I’m honoured to be part of this.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes. “Are you trying to be funny now?”

“You’re rubbing off on me. You are the one to blame.” Jeno pulls back his hand and waves him off. Jaemin tries not to reach out for his hand again, immediately missing the warmth.

“I’m watching a character development in live broadcast,” Jaemin says slyly, perching his chin on the back of his hand. “Going from Mr Awkward to teasing me. I’m proud of you.”

Jeno purses his lips not to let on a giggle but he fails. 

“My friends told me I should be friendlier to you. And they’re right. It won’t work if I stay so stiff all the time.”

“Oh, it took only a few months and a zillion of dates to realise this. Don’t rush into making decisions, Jeno Lee,” Jaemin snorts. He hates the distance the table sets between them, he hates that people are watching them – for the first time, he wishes he could be alone with Jeno. Just for a little while.

“I might not be predestined to love you,” Jeno says, ears turning pink. “But you’re a cool guy.”

Jaemin freezes. Then a smile spreads on his lips, maybe too wide and too toothy but real nonetheless.

“You’re alright too, Jeno.”

_ More _ than alright.

***

There is a loud knock on Jeno’s door and he really doesn’t want to answer it because it’s either a) Mark, wanting to bother Jeno because his soulmate ditched him for a party or b) Jaemin Na also wanting to bother him because that’s what he enjoys the most. Wasting Jeno’s time. But Jeno climbs out of the sweet cocoon of his bed and marches to the door perfectly on time for another angry rapping against his poor entrance door and some low cursing.

He takes a moment to collect all his existing patience he’s running so low right now and opens the door.

“Hey Jeno, my ride-or-die, are you ready for the date night?” Jaemin’s obnoxiously loud voice booms in the corridors.

Jeno stands in the doorway, looking dumbly at Jaemin. He's dressed incredibly fine, shirt artfully tucked into his slacks and shiny shoes so Jeno has a wild guess that he forgot an important date. There is that stupid smirk widening on Jaemin's face as he takes a look at him in his old, worn-out hoodie and torn sweatpants. 

“Very eccentric. The media is going to love it,” Jaemin says and he pulls on the strings of the hoodie, distracting Jeno enough so he can slip into the apartment. Seeing the other in his small, battered apartment still makes Jeno feel uncomfortable despite having nothing to hide. But Jaemin, always so elite and untouchable with his shirt that must’ve costed more than Jeno dares to guess, hops down comfortably on his ugly, mustard coloured couch like he’s not aware of the different lives they lead. Jaemin looks at him, expectantly when Jeno realizes that he hasn’t uttered a word since Jaemin arrived yet.

“Look Jaemin, I'm sorry but I forgot the date.” 

Jaemin’s gaze sweeps once more on his attire and says, “Duh.” 

“And I can’t really go today,” Jeno says and runs his fingers through his matted hair. “I’ve a deadline coming and I really need to finish my project.”

Jaemin considers him for a moment. Jeno almost has a mind to apologize but then he keeps the words back. He quickly runs his schedule in his mind, to find an appropriate time to rain check on this date – but his mind stops at the date of his project deadline and he can’t stop spiralling down from there.

To Jeno’s surprise, Jaemin just waves him off. “Never mind. It's a place full of snob people I don't like anyway and the food is bad per usual.” 

“We can go next time?” Jeno tries to make it up somehow. He doesn’t like to feel indebted to people and Jaemin is literally paying for him to go out publicly. 

“We’ll figure it out next time. Now, you only have to focus on your project and doing well,” Jaemin says. He pats the couch next to him and Jeno goes to sit beside him. “You look stressed.”

“No shit Sherlock,” Jeno deadpans. Jaemin chuckles beside him as he takes off his glasses and rubs at his eyes. “I haven’t slept for 2 days because I kept messing up the calculations, then I couldn’t get to the drawing because my hands kept trembling from being over-caffeinated.”

Jeno doesn’t really understand why he’s venting to Jaemin of all people but all the human contact he had in the past 2 days was when he went to the supermarket to get another 6-pack of Red Bull. But surprisingly Jaemin listens and furrows his eyebrows as Jeno talks and doesn’t even stop him to make fun of him and his misery. It’s odd but it’s also nice to finally get out all the buried anger and anxiety that this project brought on him.

When he finishes ranting, Jaemin dramatically puts his hands on Jeno’s shoulders and looks into his eyes, “Jeno, mortal enemy and fake boyfriend of mine,  _ take a nap _ .”

Jeno shakes Jaemin’s hands off of him. “I would but I still have to finish the project tonight. If I don’t mess it up, it shouldn’t take too long.”

Jaemin grimaces at the answer and Jeno really wishes he would finally take the hint and leave. He was actually in the middle of taking a stress nap when Jaemin barged in, being so anxious about the outcome of the project that he decided that the only solution is if he goes and sleeps it off. Jeno is in an inner turmoil on how to send Jaemin away softly – because he’s not an asshole at the moment so Jeno might as well be nice – when his stomach rumbles quietly and he hopes Jaemin wouldn’t notice it. Right now, he can’t really recall when he has last eaten something solid. 

“Let me cook for you,” Jaemin says suddenly.

“Uhm, no thank you? I can order take-out.” Jeno wants Jaemin out of the apartment so he can finish his project and finally go to sleep. Jaemin visibly deflates at his answer, and his lower lip juts out. Jeno points at his lips. “What is that?”

“I’m pouting, you idiot.”

“Disgusting.”

“I’m pouting  _ because _ you probably think I’ll deliberately hinder your progress by staying here. I want to inform you that you look like shit and I can’t let my fake boyfriend look like that so I’ll just cook something quick and dip. No talking necessary.” Jaemin mimics zipping his lips and throwing the keys away. 

“What do you gain from this?” Jeno asks and narrows his eyes.

“Jeno Lee, show me some trust,” Jaemin says. When Jeno just arches an eyebrow, he continues, “Maybe I want to post a picture on Instagram of me, being the best boyfriend ever.” 

“You’re mediocre at best,” Jeno snorts and when Jaemin is about to protest loudly, he adds, “But okay.”

Jaemin blinks at him for a moment, struck by the sudden agreement. But it doesn’t take long until he recovers and that stupid shit-eating grin appears on his lips that Jeno hates with all of his beings. “Now, you not only said that I’m a good boyfriend—”

“ _ Mediocre _ ,” Jeno chimes in.

“—but you even let me stay and cook for you.  _ That’s _ character development.” Jaemin acts as he flocks away a few teardrops from his eyes and Jeno already kind of regrets letting him stay. 

“Just don’t poison me or something.” Jeno sighs as he gets up from the couch and starts to the kitchen to show Jaemin around. The other quickly gathers up and follows him in the small, crumpled apartment.

“I’m not bragging or anything but I’m an amazing cook,” Jaemin says as his steps fall beside Jeno’s. 

They stop in the middle of the small kitchen and Jeno tries not to be self-conscious as he taps on the cupboards explaining their content. He isn’t even very sure if he has any kind of ingredient in the fridge as he doesn’t really have the time to cook for himself – nor he’s very skilled in that. “I don’t have an apron so if you don’t want to stain your shirt I can lend you something.”

“It’s okay, I’ll manage,” Jaemin says as he squats and rummages through the cabinet where Jeno said the dry ingredients are. He furrows his eyebrows as he opens the other door, looking at the gaping emptiness. He takes out an open box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a stack of instant ramen. “Oh wow, Jeno Lee, I didn’t know you were such a gourmet.”

He marches to the fridge and looks into it and Jeno knows too well that the only things here are the last reminder of the Red Bull cans, a few withered vegetables, a jar of his mom’s kimchi and half a bottle of milk. Jaemin looks him dead in the eye, “How do you live like this?”

Jeno feels his cheeks heating up from shame and he tries to explain himself, “I eat out often.”

Jaemin sends him a sharp glare, taking the vegetables and kimchi out of the fridge and dropping them on the counter. “That’s not healthy.” 

“Okay Mr  _ can I get 6 more shots of espresso while I crunch on some sugar cubes _ ,” Jeno rolls his eyes and leans to the counter next to the ingredients. “Maybe try to take your own advice.”

“Don’t you have a project to work on?” Jaemin asks with a fake smile on his lips as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt. Maybe Jeno’s eyes linger on Jaemin’s arms a moment too long because Jaemin tilts his head and a crooked smile takes over his lips. “Do you like what you see?”

“Why are you – like this?” Jeno asks, pointing at Jaemin’s whole being. The other doesn’t look at him as he takes out what he deems to be the sharpest knife and starts chopping the vegetables.

“Handsome? Charming? Adorable?”

“Attentive.” Jeno tries not to gag around the word. Jaemin cackles loudly and it reverberates from the tiles in the kitchen. Jeno rather likes the sound.

“Oh, Jeno Lee, I always am, you’ve just failed to notice.”

Jeno is pretty sure he did no such thing. The Jaemin Na he knows is the prime example of someone who only cares about himself. All he did in their fake-dates is to order Jeno around, ignoring his protest of staying in his comfort zone and he just pushed him out for the paparazzi to see him. All Jeno ever wanted is a quiet life and what he got himself is being Jaemin’s pet project on getting his career back while campaigning for something neither of them is really sure of while lying to everyone. Jaemin doesn’t usually care either if Jeno is stressed or tired, he drags him around on his arms and stares at him like he hung the stars. Not really something he would call attentive.

“Did something happen?” Jeno asks, uncharacteristically. Because it is so unlike Jaemin to come here, give up on a date he was prepared for and not bullying Jeno into going there – and also staying behind to cook and give comfort for him.

Jaemin doesn’t say anything but his smile falters as he continues chopping the vegetables. Jeno thinks about leaving the other alone because it is the thing he himself usually wants – but Jaemin isn’t like him so he gives a chance and postpones getting on with his project a few minutes. He drags a chair out and sits there so he can be here when Jaemin is ready to talk.

“For someone who claims to hate interacting with people you’re good at noticing things,” Jaemin sighs as he says that and his shoulders drop, relieving some pressure. His back is facing Jeno but Jaemin is expressive enough with his voice and movements only.

“For someone who claims to be a good actor, you suck hiding your feelings,” Jeno retorts even though it’s not true. He never knows what goes inside of Jaemin’s mind as his signature smile takes over his features, masking away any emotion that would have a chance resurfacing.

Jaemin spins around, a playful expression on his face, “I’m being too nice right now, I knew I should have to tone it down. You’re nosy, Jeno Lee.”

“Yeah, I’m more used to you being somewhat more stubborn and assertive, that’s all.” Jeno leans back in his chair, getting comfortable. Jaemin rolls his eyes so Jeno ventures further, “Look, you’re a good guy, Jaemin, you just never give a fuck about others if they’re not useful for you.”

There is a moment of silence and Jeno thinks he might have gone too far. But Jaemin is still facing him, face open and eyes thoughtful as he considers what Jeno said. He breaks the silence with a small puff of laughter.

“Chill man. I need to keep up the last remains of my dignity,” he says and turns back to wash the rice. “But seriously, stop being so brutally honest. Gets you nowhere in life.”

Jeno wants to tell him he’d rather stay honest than to continuously play Jaemin’s mind games and to look at everyone as they were chess pieces but he decides to keep it for another occasion. “So what’s the problem?”

“It’s stupid.”

“But it’s still bothering you.”

Jaemin busies himself with the rice cooker while he gives himself time to prepare himself. While waiting, Jeno trots to the fridge to get a can of Red Bull because if Jaemin keeps this pace up for confessing what’s bothering him, the delay in his project might not be only a few minutes. Meaning, probably no sleep for today as well.

“It’s just – things got overwhelming now. I still don’t get offers to act because producers think that I’m a risky business. And they’re right because the last film I made that came out after the news of us being barely soulmates tanked. The paparazzi are still invading my privacy, going as far as breaking into my house,” Jaemin lists the things and his voice grows quieter and quieter to the end. “And I just watched Donghyuck and his soulmate being like cute and shit and honestly, I never thought I want that. But now that I know I’ll never be in such a wavelength with someone, it gets sad quickly.”

It’s odd that to the end, they’re so different and still fear the same things. Jeno is also afraid of working for something that will never work out for him because he has a number assigned to his name. He’s also afraid of this newfound fame and of the people whispering about him, calling him names and photographing him like he’s some kind of rare animal. And he does sometimes wonder if this is what life will be in the future, too – Jaemin and he stuck in this fake relationship that might not even help them.

But now, he doesn’t want to think about all of these things. It’s nice now – there is a newly discovered camaraderie between them as they are the only ones who understand this. Jeno could talk about it to Mark, Jaemin could also do so to Donghyuck and Renjun and all they can do is to pity them but don’t understand.

“I’m sorry I can’t give that to you,” Jeno says, addressing the last part and hopes that Jaemin can hear the sincerity in his voice.

Jaemin peeks back at him over his shoulder, “It’s okay. It’s not up to you and it’s neither up to me.”

Jeno hums and feels liberated by that, Jaemin stating out loud that this is not under their control.

They fall in silence after that but it’s not uncomfortable. Jeno should really get back to his architecture project but he feels like if he stands up and leaves the kitchen, they would be back to step one immediately He dislikes Jaemin because of the sudden changes he’s brought on his quiet and comfortable life. He dislikes him because they’re both at the very ends of the spectrum personality-wise that Jeno feels they can never really cross that bridge.

But now, he watches Jaemin hum a song, low and cracking in some places but Jeno is reminded of a Backstreet Boys song, while he busies himself with finding the right utensils, back no longer strained with troubles they have no control over and Jeno thinks they might not be so different after all.

Jaemin stops in his track and turns to Jeno. He silently prays that Jaemin would not ruin the moment just for once.

“But just for the record, despite us not being real soulmates or whatever, we look hot together,” Jaemin says and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Damn, we do.”

***

“Jeno Lee,” Jaemin starts seriously. “Say ah.”

The spoon is blocked by Jeno’s lips. There’s a slight scowl between Jaemin’s eyebrows as he pushes the spoonful of rice harder against Jeno’s unyielding lips.

“Don’t be a stubborn baby. Say ah.”

Jeno unwillingly opens his mouth for a retort but Jaemin is quicker and shoves the fried rice down his throat. Jeno chokes on it but he can still see the winning smile on Jaemin’s smug face.

“Why do I feel like you’re enjoying this way too much?” Jeno accuses after washing down the rice with some Red Bull. He’s already jittery from the caffeine but otherwise, he doesn’t find the will in himself to stay awake, especially if Jaemin camps in his apartment for so long.

“Because I do,” Jaemin nods. “I’m very nurturing by the way. Let me enjoy my chance.”

Jeno rolls his eyes. “Really? Haven’t noticed while I was choking. My bad.”

“This is why I have to feed you. You’re an oversized baby.” Jaemin points at him with his spoon. “How’s the food?”

Jeno cautiously sniffs the rice.

“You just ate from it and you didn’t drop dead, did you?”

“Better safe than sorry,” Jeno murmurs.

Deeming it safe enough to save him from a trip to the loo, he starts shovelling the rice into his mouth. 

“Delicious!” Jeno says around a mouthful. Beside cereals and instant ramen, this is the first solid food he has eaten in days. The colour starts to come back to his ashen face as he helps himself another plate. Jaemin watches him with a small smile like he’s enjoying seeing him like what he made. Jeno blushes at the undivided attention and his embarrassment of being so occupied with the food he forgot to offer even a cup of coffee to Jaemin. “You’re not eating?”

Jaemin waves him off, “No. I’m not hungry.”

It’s weirdly domestic, sitting in this small kitchen, sitting almost too close. Jaemin doesn’t seem to mind, he dangles his legs and sometimes they brush against Jeno’s. There are distant noises of the outside world, too far away to burst their little safe place of a bubble. They don’t talk, which is rare because Jaemin likes to fill in the silence, only the noise of the cutlery brushing against the plate fills the room – and Jeno finds a bit of peace of mind in that. 

Upon noticing that Jeno’s finished and he’s full, Jaemin collects the plates and cutlery, putting them into the kitchen sink for Jeno to later do the dishes. He turns around, an odd expression on his face that Jeno can’t interpret, and he leans against the counter. Jeno doesn’t know what to say – thank Jaemin for the food or to accompanying him when he thought he needs no one? All that seems so useless at the moment, words not enough to properly express himself.

Jaemin pushes away from the counter, that weird glassy expression wiped away to be exchanged with a small smile. “I should go now. Held you up for enough time.”

True to his words, he collects his stuff from the living room, not sparing a look at Jeno. He wonders if he did something to prompt this reaction or if Jaemin got bored of him not talking. 

Jeno catches his arm and Jaemin finally looks at him. “What about the Instagram picture?”

“Maybe next time.”

Jeno watches Jaemin leave. Jaemin seems to have noticed his own odd behaviour so he bounces some jokes off on Jeno but his smile is empty as he does so. When Jeno opens the door for Jaemin, the word  _ stay _ plays on his lips but he decides not to say it aloud. It’d just complicate things when not even Jeno is sure what that would mean. So he waves at him, watches him walk through the corridor, never looking back. 

Huh.

*** 

Jaemin lazily cracks open his eyes and the first thing he does is to reach for his phone. Bad habit, he knows, especially when he’s about to search for his name like he does every morning. It doesn’t really improve his confidence – not like he has problems with that but still, constantly reading bad things about yourself takes a toll on your well-being – but he’s curious and has no self-control.

So when he sees that he’s got a message from no-other but Jeno Lee, he thinks he’s screwed. 

Jeno never texts him first. Never even texts back other things than ‘k’ or ‘got it’ to confirm he’s okay with Jaemin’s date ideas. Once, out of curiosity Jaemin sent him a row of hearts to see his reaction but he got ignored. Then he sent a row of broken hearts and he got a ‘good’ back. But he’s never ever received a text message from Jeno first. 

Thoughts run wildly in his head as he stares at the notification. They might’ve been discovered, fake dating and all that business. If that so, there must be thousands of articles flowing around on the Internet about them and Jaemin’s career is no better than dead. Or Jeno might’ve been harassed by the paparazzi. Jaemin is barely hanging on from them but he’s already somewhat used to their eternal presence – but Jeno isn’t. Yesterday flashes into his mind. Maybe he didn’t notice that someone followed him to Jeno’s apartment.

Jaemin sucks a breath in and opens the message.

** From: JeNO **

thanks for cooking for me yesterday

and i’m sorry about the date

let me make it up to you

Jaemin stares at it for longer than he wants to admit. He reads it again to really understand it, not wanting to make a fool of himself if he didn’t. Checks it again to see if it’s really Jeno. It is. It is Jeno Lee and he used the word ‘date’ and not  _ outing _ or  _ hang-out _ as he usually does when they talk about their fake-dates.

So there are still miracles in this world.

** To: JeNO **

no prob jeno

you don’t have to do anything tho

** From: JeNO **

but i feel bad

you know what? put on your most used sweater 

and meet me at mine in an hour

** To: JeNo **

k

Typing that one letter was one of the most satisfying moments of his life.

*** 

“Y’know, Jeno, yesterday I was about to take you to a posh, new restaurant, three Michelin stars and all. I’m not trying to criticize you or anything but making up to me by bringing me to an animal shelter feel a bit subpar to that,” Jaemin says as he’s pulling on the rubber gloves that Jeno brought them. Jeno rolls his eyes as he listens to the other’s rambling about this not being a proper make-up to the restaurant date they’ve missed. He looks over at Jaemin and even though he’s scowling, there is a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I somehow suspected that you wouldn’t like this. So I also brought you your disgusting coffee,” Jeno sighs and he holds the cup out for Jaemin. He inspects the cup suspiciously before taking it from Jeno but when he carefully tastes it, he deems it okay.

“Okay, good coffee but don’t try to bribe me into silence. You knew I won’t like it and still brought me here?” There is that again – that shit-eating smile that makes Jeno wants to punch him. “Just tell me you want me around, no need to hide it.”

Jeno snorts. He feels like nothing had changed between them from yesterday night, except that everything comes a bit more naturally. Knowing that under this false confidence Jaemin puts on toward the world, he’s as scared shitless from everything as Jeno is – it makes everything easier. It makes it easier to look through his annoying smirks, his constant flirting and snappy commentary and also that for Jaemin, an old and well-used sweater is something that Jeno would wear to a formal party. It’s just easier to accept Jaemin, the actor as he is and separate from Jaemin, the 22-year-old guy he had a glance on yesterday night who is frightened by what the future will bring him.

“Drop the act. I know from an inner informant that you used to help out in this animal shelter and for a fact, I know you just try to criticize me.”

To be honest, Jeno was surprised when Donghyuck told him about it. He first called Donghyuck to confirm whether Jaemin was free for the afternoon for his bi-weekly visit to the animal shelter, when Donghyuck absentmindedly added, _ ‘Oh yeah, Jaemin used to work as a volunteer there but you didn’t hear that from me.’ _

“Don’t expose me like that. And stop talking with Donghyuck, he’s a bad influence.” Jaemin takes the straw into his mouth and sips angrily. 

“Why are you so against people finding out you’ve volunteered?” Jeno asks but Jaemin just shrugs his shoulders. “Isn’t it like – I don’t know, a cute and responsible thing to do?”

“Oh my, are you indirectly calling me cute and responsible? I knew my charms will work on you, too. It’s a blessing and a curse,” Jaemin dramatically sighs. He puts a hand on Jeno’s shoulder and looks at him pityingly. “Sorry Jeno but I have to reject you, I think we better stay as fake-boyfriends.”

Jeno says nothing but he shakes Jaemin’s hand off of his shoulder and glares at him. Jaemin just coos and pats his cheeks instead.

“You’re like the least threatening person I know. And I’m acquaintances with Kim Jungwoo. You just look like an angry puppy,” Jaemin says and crushes Jeno’s cheeks in a quite passive-aggressive way. Jeno pulls out of his grip and starts filling out the papers. “Also don’t you have like a pretty bad fur allergy?”

“How do you know that?”

Jaemin lets out an exasperated sigh.

“Jeno, you act like I didn’t have to stop and hold your stuff while you went and patted some stray kitty-cats during our dates countless times. Then your face bloats up like a balloon and you sneeze your germs all over me,” Jaemin says. “Did you think I wouldn’t remember the time when you literally sneezed on my face?”

Jeno swats Jaemin lightly on the arm so he would shut his mouth. There is warmth creeping up on her neck as he thinks back to the time when Jaemin leaned in to kiss him in front of the paparazzi but Jeno’s allergy decided to act up in the same moment, ending up sneezing right into Jaemin’s smirking face. That bastard had it coming, anyway.

“Okay, the last thing to prove you  _ I’m _ the best boyfriend ever and not you,” Jeno says, pushing the form to Jaemin to sign. A satisfied smile grows on his face and hopes it at least reminds Jaemin of his own – but the look Jeno gets is not impressed, so he continues, “I know your favourite animal is a Samoyed and guess what?”

Jaemin looks like he’s vibrating on his stance.

“There is not one Samoyed here but,” he takes a dramatic pause. He holds up four fingers and he can practically see Jaemin’s mind-blowing up with happiness. “Four Samoyeds. Mama Samoyed with her puppies.”

“Are you serious?” Jaemin asks with child-like excitement.

Jeno cocks an eyebrow and nods towards the kennels. “Find out yourself.”

Jaemin practically zooms out, rushing past him and Jeno swears he heard an excited squeal leaving his lips. Jeno takes a few seconds to follow, finishing the last bits of the form before handing it to the staff with a smile. For Jaemin, his absence was too long already because he reappears not even a minute later with a badly hidden smile. He places both his hands on Jeno’s shoulders and looks deeply into his eyes.

“Jeno Lee, I take back the rejection. I want to marry you.”

Jeno snorts. He kind of hears the staff behind them letting out an amused little noise – it’s not every day that actor Jaemin Na comes to the shelter to then ask his 5 percent soulmate to marry him. It registers in Jeno’s mind but all he can focus on is the mischief and carefreeness is Jaemin’s brown eyes.

“Please, don’t,” he says and takes hold on one of Jaemin’s arms, pulling him to the kennel where the Samoyeds stay. He collects himself before he would let out an inhumane screech at the cuteness that these white fluffballs impose in front of Jaemin that he would hear no end to. “Oh and please, take the Instagram picture right now before my face blows up or before the allergy medication starts working and I fall asleep. Whichever comes first.”

“I’d have known that you’re on drugs, you’re not this nice on your own,” Jaemin complains, with slightly furrowed eyebrows but he’s fishing out his phone from his pocket. He fluffs up his hair and tries to find his best angle. Jeno bites back a  _ no need, you look good _ because that’s just the allergy medicine speaking in him. Jaemin doesn’t need to hear this stray and mildly concerning thought. 

Jaemin squats down in front of the kennel, fumbling with his phone to get the best light possible.

“Do you want me to take a photo of you?” Jeno asks, ready to take the phone away from Jaemin and clench his jaw to take one of the cutesy pictures he hates to see. The other snatches back the phone before Jeno could take it.

“No! First of all, you take terrible pictures,” Jaemin complains and Jeno wants to stand up for himself – but he’s kind of right. “Secondly, you come here. I want a picture of the two of us.”

Jeno nods, squatting next to Jaemin. He cries internally as the curious puppies trust their soft noses through the bars and sniff at their backs but let out no emotion. He throws a peace sign for good measure, showing he doesn’t hate every second of it.

“Scoot closer, you hide the dogs,” Jaemin instructs as he watches themselves on the screen. He sneaks an arm around Jeno’s shoulders. “Are you ready? One, two, three—” 

In the last moment, before he pushes the button and takes the picture before Jeno could react, Jaemin leans in and breathes a small kiss on Jeno’s cheek. Now, Jeno is not a blushing virgin, afraid of any physicality but the reality is slipping from his fingers and he was not ready for Jaemin’s cooties on his skin.

“What was that?” Jeno can’t help his voice slipping up higher than he intended and he shoots up from where he was squatting. The action scares the puppies and they let out a low rumble. Jaemin pays him no heeds, smiling stupidly at the screen and typing out what Jeno can see an immense amount of hearts. When he finishes, he lets out a satisfied sigh.

“My gratitude, Jeno Lee. Learn to appreciate it.” His voice is less snappy than Jeno expected. Jaemin slowly leans in closer to Jeno like he’s afraid if he moves any faster he would scare Jeno away, mischief in his eyes, then bops Jeno’s nose. In times like this does Jeno really feel he lost all his dignity when he agreed on being Jaemin Na’s fake boyfriend. “We literally made out in front of cameras, don’t start being shy now.”

Jeno opens his mouth to argue that this is not the same – kissing in front of the cameras because they  _ pretend _ to be in love with each other and Jaemin kissing his cheeks when they are alone – but Jaemin beats him and pushes his phone to Jeno. He pushes up his glasses so he can focus better on their picture – his own surprise reflecting on the photo as Jaemin pushes his lips to his cheeks and Jeno feels his ears turning pink in embarrassment. Okay, it’s a cute picture. His eyes slip down to the caption which read,  _ best _ with heart emojis around. He can already see the flood of comments under it but he tries not to pay any attention to them – it’s the easiest way to avoid mean comments.

“ _ Best _ ? That’s the best you can do?” Jeno teases, giving back the phone to Jaemin. He just shrugs. “Just say the best boyfriend and go.”

“Death of the author and all that jazz. You can interpret my caption as you like. You can stop being a pain in the ass now,” Jaemin answers. 

He turns back to the white cotton balls who bark excitedly at them. 

“Do you think it is too early in our relationship to adopt a dog?” Jaemin muses.

Jeno chokes on his own saliva.

“No, don’t answer that.”

*** 

Jeno hasn’t heard of Jaemin in the last few days. He checks his phone for texts or missed calls but there’s none. Jaemin is not blowing up his phone with pictures of cats on the streets just because he knows Jeno likes them. Jaemin isn’t calling him every night so he can talk shit about some other celebrity because he knows Jeno would listen to him. So it’s a bit weird, the quietness of the days when his phone doesn’t go off every few minutes.

He checks the news – Jaemin might’ve got some new projects to work on. But no, there’s no news announcing him as a participant and no news of him at all. He’s not really worried because Jaemin’s a tough cookie, so he’ll resurface when he needs to.

He pockets his phone and tries to concentrate on his readings. He tries, reading the same paragraph again and again but nothing makes sense. There are murmurs around their table, despite the librarian going around, hushing people. When Jeno looks up, several eyes lock into his, phones out, photographing him. It never stops surprising him that people find his misfortune so interesting, so entertaining that they need to catch every moment of it. He taps his foot against the floor repeatedly, trying to calm himself down. 

“Dude quit that,” Heejin hisses from across the table. “Do you want old Mrs Jung to kick us out?”

“Sorry, I can’t concentrate,” Jeno whispers, letting his head drop on his open book. “Just Jaemin hasn’t contacted me in a few days and I’m—”

“Worried. We get it, man,” Mark murmurs back, rubbing at his temples. He sends a dirty look to the group next to them where the flash of the phone goes out.

“You’re whipped for him,” Heejin continues, not looking up from her notes. “As he’s whipped for you.”

“I am certainly not—” 

“Just call him. Or text. It’s not a big deal, asking about a friend,” Mark pats his head. 

Jeno straightens him back immediately. That’s right, Jaemin said they’re friends. He can go and casually ask him why he disappeared for days now. No biggie. Not like he’s worried or anything but it’s only polite to ask whether he’s alive or not. When he takes out of his phone from his pocket, he might hear something along the lines of ‘whipped idiot’ coming from Heejin but he chooses to ignore it.

** To: Jaemin **

did you die?

** From: Jaemin **

not yet

but close

I’m sick : ((

are you worried? ;) 

** To: Jaemin **

unfortunate 

I hope u die soon

** From: Jaemin **

don’t be mean

I’m sensitive now

Jeno is about to send a ‘ _ k _ ’ when his phone pings for another row of texts.

** From: Jaemin **

visit me pls

Donghyuck and Renjun are out of town

and I’m alone 

alone AND sick

Jeno writes ‘ _ wtf, no’ _ and stares at it. His thumb hovers on the send button but he’s not sure. Jaemin must be really sick if he’s not hanging on his phone all day long, sending text after text to Jeno just because he knows it annoys him. 

Maybe he can drop by. Bring some food and medicine for him and entertain him for an hour or so. After all, he still feels like he’s in debt for him for nagging him out of his pity party a few weeks ago, even if he passionately hated him for it at the moment. But he also sat down next to him and waited patiently for Jeno to open up for him. And it was kind of nice after all, cementing the idea that Jaemin Na is not the stubborn, selfish person Jeno judged him on the first impression.

** To: Jaemin **

ok, I’ll drop by

what do you want to eat?

** From: Jaemin **

now, are YOU sick????????? 

Jeno ignores the row of texts from Jaemin, the wave of crazy but familiar buzzing that comes with it; he ignores Mark’s smug smile as he peeks at him over his book and that Heejin shakes her head disapprovingly. 

“You’re smiling like an idiot, so I can assume he’s alive and well?” she asks, trying to keep the saltiness in her voice to the minimum. 

“Alive but not well. He’s sick.” 

“Go then, puppy. Cuddle your boy,” Heejin says and pats his butt. 

*** 

Jeno stares at Jaemin. With his matted hair, circles under his eyes and chapped lips, he looks – almost approachable. Almost human. Jeno isn’t sure why he feels so relieved knowing that sometimes even Jaemin Na looks like he was run over by a truck but it helps to ease his mind. He still sports some quality silk pyjamas that would look ridiculous on anyone else but on him and Jeno still thinks that it’s unfair.

“ _ Why _ do you have a mask on?” Jaemin asks accusingly. He has a stuffy nose and his voice is hoarse and deep from not using it for a few days. He sends stinky looks at Jeno but his attention is quickly averted to the content of the bag Jeno placed on the table.

“I’m sorry, I’m not here to get whatever is ruining you right now,” Jeno’s voice is muffled by the mask. He bats Jaemin’s curious fingers away from the bag because the food grew cold on the commute here.

“It’s a simple cold, Jeno,” Jaemin rolls his eyes. He sits down on one of the barstools and waits for Jeno to give him food while pointing him to directions to where he finds this and that in the kitchen.

“Yeah, and it took you out for 4 days.” An exasperated sigh leaves his lips. He regrets saying it as soon as he looks over Jaemin, smirking bastard mode on, placing his chin on the back of his hand.

“Oh, were you counting it? Did you miss me so much?”

Jeno blinks once, twice, unamused. Then flicks Jaemin’s forehead.

“I’m going home,” he says simply, dropping the cutlery from his hands and turning around. There’s a hassle behind him and however curious he is, he strengthens himself and walks out to the hall, putting on his shoes and jacket when Jaemin’s hands on his shoulders stopped him.

“Wait, are you serious? No, don’t leave!” he shrieks but it dies down in a coughing fit. Jeno is kind of glad to have a mask on. When Jaemin refocuses on him again, his eyes are glassy and brooding. “Entertain me. I haven’t had human contact in the last few days. And I think I have a fever.”

Jeno pushes Jaemin’s fringe aside and checks his temperature. Unknowingly, Jaemin leans into the touch and doesn’t jump away from any unwanted proximity so Jeno’s already sure that something is certainly going on.

Despite having been here only a few times, Jeno navigates in Jaemin’s penthouse quite easily. What he expected to be lavish and expensive and just screaming high-fashion as every piece of clothing Jaemin seems to own, the whole penthouse is a bit underwhelming and ordinary. He leads Jaemin to the living room, to the fake-leather couch and makes him sit there. Jaemin lets out a small whine when Jeno pulls back from him.

“I’ll bring the food,” Jeno says and Jaemin just nods, looking too tired to speak.

This is odd –  _ domestic _ , Jeno thinks as he prepares the food for Jaemin.

Which he doesn’t mind, of course. He likes simple things and this is nice. Not Jaemin being sick, that’s not very nice except that he finally stopped looking like a god gracing humans and took the form of a living, breathing human. But this thing that’s going on – them being friends. Being friends and look after each other in times when it’s needed. 

Nice.

When he goes back to Jaemin to the living room, the other somehow acquired a blanket and he tightly rolled into it. At the sound of Jeno’s footfalls, he opens one eye to peek at him and eyed the content of the bowl suspiciously.

“Did you make that?” Jaemin asks, eyes following to bowl as Jeno places it on the coffee table.

“No. I bought it from the place you like,” Jeno says patiently as he offers Jaemin a spoon. The other’s suspicion deflates like a balloon and he digs into the hot soup with vigour.

“That’s nice of you,” he manages to get out between two spoonfuls of soup. “Next time, ask whatever you want to eat, I’ll cook it.”

Now if he thinks about it, Jaemin loiters around his apartment more than it should be considered normal. He comes and goes as he pleases, makes turmoil whenever Heejin appears to be following Jeno into the apartment, getting real chummy with Mark to the point of ignoring Jeno’s whole existence – so he drops by a lot. Sometimes he cooks, saying that he’s getting out of practice and Jeno happily accompanies him there, watching but never learning how to actually make himself the food, and eat whatever is placed in front of him. But sometimes Jaemin just shows up with a frown between his eyebrows and lips downturned and claims that he’s just only there to beat Jeno in  _ Mario Kart _ . Then they’ll order some food, get into heated arguments just on how Jaemin cannot go around without cheating and Jaemin’s smiling again like the bastard he is.

So Jaemin is by his side a lot.

He just never noticed it because how seamlessly Jaemin fit himself into Jeno’s life. 

There is a fraction. There’s always fraction whenever they’re close to each other, bantering and arguing about small things but it turned from serious to fun, like the thing between them turned from dislike to friendship. It was easy and quick – it almost always is with Jaemin. 

“I’m sad, Jeno,” Jaemin announces, pushing the empty bowl back to the coffee table and drawing the blanket tighter around his body. He motions Jeno to sit next to him and he accomplishes.

“Why?”

There’s a moment of silence when Jeno can see Jaemin thinking. But he closes his tired eyes, long and dark eyelashes fawn over high cheekbones, and he lays his head on Jeno’s shoulder. Jeno feels the heat of Jaemin’s fever where skin meets skin and he reminds himself to get some medicine when this finishes.

“Do you like me?”

“You know I do,” Jeno sighs. “Of course I do. We’re friends.”

“I like you too. I like dating with you. It’s so easy and fun. The thing is, I thought I’d hate it. That this will be just a pain in the ass – and oh boy, I was right for the first few months,” Jaemin rambles while Jeno listens carefully. He knows better than to take a sick person’s rambling seriously but his words somehow feel too important. “And it should be so easy, to be with you, if it’s not for that damned number ruining everything.”

Jeno takes in a shuddering breath, waiting for Jaemin to continue but he stays silent. He gulps. “So you’re trying to say –”

He looks down at Jaemin on his shoulder, eyes closed and mouth a bit agape, soft snores filling the silence. He decides it’s better like this. He might’ve heard things that mess with him, not like he needs any more prodding. Then Jaemin would just go on with their usual banter, continue looking at people like he’s in love with them, continue on flirting with every other person and Jeno would just set himself up for heartbreak. 

He thinks of leaving, escaping to the kitchen, creating a small distance between him and Jaemin. But the bags under his eyes shows that he hasn’t slept well or nearly enough and he’s afraid he moves Jaemin would stir. He takes in a deep breath, letting his head rest on the crown on Jaemin’s head, closing his own eyes because he has nothing else to do.

*** 

Jeno’s eyes flutter open and he feels disorientated for a moment. He recalls coming to Jaemin’s to check up on him because he’s –  _ sick _ . Jeno shoots up from his half-lying, half-sitting position, wildly looking around for Jaemin, worried of passing out on him 

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Jaemin croaks, slanting into the room with a mug of hot, steaming tea. “I’m not trying to criticize you or anything, but you suck at this taking care of a sick person. You were literally drooling on my head.”

With a look of fake disgust, he pats his hair. Jeno feels his cheeks heat up.

“Did you—”

“Yeah, I took my medicine. Thanks for bringing some, I was running out.”

Jaemin plops down next to him. He snuggles to Jeno like it’s the most natural thing to do. He still feels a bit too warm for Jeno’s liking but his eyes no longer have that feverish glint so he treats it as a success. To entertain Jaemin, he throws an arm around him.

“Are you feeling better?” Jeno asks, looking down at Jaemin’s sweat matted pinkish hair. He has his eyes closed, long lashes fawn over his cheekbones, making him look like he’s taking another nap. Healthy Jaemin is snuggly but sick Jaemin seems to the only function normally if he has another human body attached to his own. So taking one for the non-existing team, Jeno tightens his grip on him.

“A lot,” Jaemin almost purrs as he snuggles his head into the crook of Jeno’s neck. He looks up at Jeno and frowns. “Whatever happened with your mask? Are you not afraid anymore of getting my cooties?”

“Now that you reminded me,” Jeno smugly smiles as he puts on an act of pushing Jaemin away. Jaemin, still out of it, misinterprets and pulls back, looking guilty. Backpedalling the moment Jeno realises this, he drapes over Jaemin. “I was just joking. Let’s take another nap.”


	4. Chapter 4

There are times when Jaemin forgets that being a low-level match hurts. Because of his elevated celebrity status, he hasn’t faced it too much. Of course, he’s out of a job right now, no filmmaker would risk the success of their movie for Jaemin to act in it. But he thinks of it like the inevitable bad which he has to go through before things turn right. If they ever turn right.

And of course, people are badmouthing him – but it’s something he got used to over the years. He remembers the first rumours got him bad. He spent nights awake, reading comments about himself, his heart breaking every time he’d read something arguably bad about himself. He isolated himself away from the outside world, fearing if he stepped outside, more people would turn against him. Renjun shook him out of his pity party one day, showing up in his penthouse, telling him to  _ suck it up because you can’t please everyone _ and that  _ you should think about the people who actually love and appreciate you instead _ – and then went and beat him in  _ Mario Kart _ twice. 

So from that day on, he worked on thickening his skin. He stopped reading comments altogether for a while – he’s falling back to this bad habit again but they don’t hurt as much as they did. But he’s still a people’s pleaser down there and he doesn’t think he’ll stop being one anytime soon. 

But when Renjun rolls up to his penthouse with a black eye and a pissed off Donghyuck by his side, he might rethink all of this.

“What happened to you?”

Renjun sends him a pointed look, which is impressive because one of his eyes is swollen. “Nothing,” he grumbles. Jaemin turns to Donghyuck, who looks away immediately.

“Are you kidding? Donghyuck, what happened?”

“Hyuck—” Renjun starts with a frown on his face. When they look at each other, Jaemin feels left out. There seems to be a telepathic way they communicate, only through looks and minuscule movements that Jaemin can’t decipher. It’s always interesting to watch them – always at each other’s throat but so dependent on each other. 

At the end of their silent conversation, Renjun groans loudly. He rattles a bag in front of Jaemin’s eyes. “Hyuck will tell you while I prepare the snacks.”

He sends another pointed look for Donghyuck before he leaves.

“Put some ice on it!” Jaemin calls after him then turns to his manager. “Now, spill.”

Donghyuck’s jaw is set tightly, mouth pursed into a thin line and Jaemin realizes he’s never seen him this angry. His friend is usually just a big mouth who’s soft around the edges – he’s confrontational and holds a grudge like no one else but this type of anger is raw and unnatural on him.

He clears his throat and begins, “Some prick kept taunting him for having such a low-level match as his best friend at the office and my little gremlin is not about to let cockroaches like that idiot walk over his friend. So he punched him in the face.”

Donghyuck’s voice is distant as he retells and Jaemin knows there’s more to the story – but he doesn’t dare to ask. The tremble of Donghyuck hands tells that this is some watered down explanation, suited for him to work with, to soften the blow. It must’ve been Renjun’s idea – he knows the best how Jaemin’s mind works and Donghyuck is just too blunt for this type of mind games. There’s too much to unpack and Jaemin’s mind is reeling on the fact that this is his fault. For being like this. 

Renjun was hurt because of him.

“So this happened – because of me?” he asks, the words feeling like poison on his tongue.

Renjun arrives with a bowl of chips in each hand, walking in like he owns the place. But even he can’t keep the mask on too well. Between the cracks, Jaemin can see the tell-tale signs of how rattled he is – his slightly glossy eyes, Donghyuck’s reassuring hand setting between his shoulder blades, his tight-lipped smile. Nothing can escape Jaemin’s eyes, searching, frenzied, for signs telling him the whole story.

“Don’t be so full of yourself. It happened because the guy had a death wish. And I already had enough of him. He’s had it coming, anyway.” Renjun waves him off. 

“But—” 

“Jaemin, we all know that you have nothing to do with this. The guy talked shit, I got blinded with anger and boom I hit him. And he hit back,” he says, fingers caressing the swollen skin and he winces at his own touch. “Fortunately, other colleagues heard him taunting me so I won’t get fired. He can’t say the same.”

Jaemin nods because he cannot do anything else. He doesn’t understand, he cannot wrap his mind around this – were there more occasions of this? All those times when Donghyuck came back from meetings or finished phone calls with a frown etched almost permanently to his face; or when Renjun snapped at every word directed to him, so palpably stressed and tired it hurt to look at him.

Was that all maybe because of him?

There’s a hand on his arm, knuckles wounded in some places and he probably shouldn’t have seen it because Renjun pulls his hand back immediately. His expression is artificially calm and soft as he looks at Jaemin like Jaemin would break down at any moment. He can’t stop staring at his swollen eye, his breath shallowing without him noticing.

Renjun’s face gets closer, breaking Jaemin out of his silent panicked state, he says, “Jaemin, everything’s okay.”

“Does—” he starts, words stuck in his throat. He gulps. “Does this happen often?”

For his credit, Renjun doesn’t look away. He doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t show any discomfort when he answers, “Yeah, a few times.”

Donghyuck’s hand on Renjun’s shoulder tighten and they exchange glances. Jaemin wants to scoff at them, that this is not the time to exclude him. He wants to be part of it, he doesn’t need to be sheltered from the real world – because he realises, that is what they’ve been doing. Jaemin sometimes notices on Jeno, how beat down he looks, so tired and snappy at the world, always blaming it on exhaustion from studying. Was he also feeding into these lies?

Donghyuck and Renjun break their staring contest off when they notice Jaemin stepping backwards. 

“I’ll bring some ice for your bruise,” he says because he needs to go. He needs some fresh air. Without thinking or waiting for his friends to react, he starts to the elevator and calls it. His fingers shake as he waits, hearing a small argument bloom between Donghyuck and Renjun to whether to stop him or not. Renjun, always so attuned to Jaemin’s feelings recognizes his need to stay alone for a bit. 

The door of the elevator opens and no one stops him.

He exhales shakily, letting his back crash against the hard metal for support. 

He wouldn’t care if it happened to him. He’s prepared for people hating him just for the way he speaks, breathes, and exists. It’s not new for him that some people will find ways to make him miserable, especially when they have means like his percentage number to work with. 

What hurts is that he didn’t know about this. He didn’t know Renjun is continuously taunted for just being friends with him. It must’ve got really bad for Renjun. Whereas he’s easy to rile up he would never turn it into a physical fight without a proper reason. He would’ve endured it better if it was about himself. But not when his friends get involved.

With trembling hands, he fishes his phone out of his pocket and dials the only person he can talk to.

“Jaemin?” Jeno’s voice is hoarse and heavy with sleep, probably woken up from a nap. “What’s the matter?”

“How do you know there’s a problem?” Jaemin breathes out a shaky laugh. The elevator arrives on the ground floor. His eyes sting but he wills the tears away.

There’s a rustle from the other side of the phone. “You hate calling. Are you okay, Jaemin?”

“Have your friends got hurt because of our level?” he asks, the words hurting his throat. When he closes his eyes, he sees Renjun’s black eye, painful and throbbing, yet still looking at Jaemin with care and tenderness. He feels nauseous.

Jeno doesn’t say anything for a long moment but he doesn’t have to – Jaemin can interpret the heavy silence. Then he says, “Yes.”

“I see,” Jaemin breathes. He doesn’t know where he’s heading – possibly he should get back to his friends, waiting for him in his home. He wanders around his building in the dark, walking without a clear goal. 

“Jaemin,” Jeno starts. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Jaemin blurts out. “Yes. I don’t know.”

Out of every person he knows, Jeno Lee seems to be the most unsuitable to spill his heart’s content out on the sheer reason that Jeno looks like he can only feel happiness or tiredness, never more or less. But still – Jeno is so gentle and trustworthy, and Jaemin feels like if he opened up, he’d meet with tender care.

“Want me to come over?” Jeno’s voice is serious and confident. Jaemin panics a little because he’s the one in emotional turmoil and Jeno is the one who’s calm and collected. And this is not their usual dynamics, it throws Jaemin off a bit. 

“No. Renjun and Donghyuck are there,” Jaemin says, already hailing a cab. “Can I go over instead?”

“Of course. Ring me if you’re here.”

*** 

Jeno looks like he’s been caught in a whirlwind when he opens his door. His hair stands in different spikes, face puffy with sleep and his body is clad in the most stretched out clothes he owns. But his eyes are sober and vigilant as he finds Jaemin’s. Jaemin doesn’t want to think about how he must look right now because without saying anything, Jeno throws his arms around him and pulls him into a tight hug.

“This is your grand plan of getting me to feel better?” Jaemin jokes but his voice comes out wet. 

“Is it not working?” Jeno asks with mild panic.

“It’s working,” he sighs. Jaemin nuzzles closer to Jeno’s nape and wraps his own arms around the other. He lets himself sink into the warmth that radiates from Jeno, trying to forget all of his worries just for a moment. But he doesn’t allow himself too much time, he opens his eyes, face still buried into Jeno’s neck. “Renjun got hurt because of me.”

“Hm.” 

“Won’t you—won’t you tell me it’s not my fault?” Jaemin asks, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

“Will it make a difference if I do? You’ll still continue to blame yourself,” Jeno explains, pulling back to look at Jaemin. “We’ve talked about this, how this soulmate system is out of our control. Then why do you start blaming yourself now?”

“I just kept thinking it is my fault. If I don’t keep flaunting that we’re only a 5 percent match then people might leave them alone.” Jaemin has been thinking about his plan – how it seems not to work because the hate they receive is still greater than the support; how he still lacks any offerings of roles, not even called for castings; and now how people close to them get hurt because of them.

“It’s hard to come to terms with – but people would still do that without us dating openly. They need something to grab and pull down and Jaemin, you’re the brightest star now, of course, they want to dim your light.”

Jaemin leans back but Jeno’s no longer looking at him. He stares at the entrance door, unwilling to meet Jaemin’s eyes. There’s faint pink dust on his cheeks and Jaemin, any other time would love to make fun of him for saying something so uncharacteristic but now Jaemin just stares at the soft curves of his lips but holding himself back.

“But you also get hurt, don’t you?” Jaemin questions.

Jeno shrugs, trying to play it down. “I don’t really care about strangers’ opinions. What hurts is friends leaving.”

Jaemin remembers his early fears of Donghyuck or Renjun leaving him, remembers how it hurt when Donghyuck pulled away the moment he said his percentage. Weird, how he’d longed for camaraderie between him and his future soulmate, then it seemed impossible seeing how Jeno didn’t seem to like him so much and now he’s here, looking for solace in his arms. Renjun, Donghyuck, Mark and even Heejin – it’s not just a companionship between him and Jeno. Their friends also share their burdens, try to help them, sticking to their sides.

“I’m sorry,” Jaemin says finally. 

“Don’t be. I’ll live,” Jeno waves him off, starting to pull away. Jaemin wants to hold onto him, just for a few seconds longer, not ready to let go. He slips a hand to cup Jeno’s cheek and it surprises him to notice Jeno no longer recoils at his touch. Maybe this is wrong, maybe he picked up the signs wrong, maybe he shouldn’t do this. But Jaemin was never the type to stop because something seems stupidly wrong. Maybe he’d regret later, kissing Jeno outside of their little pact, but not now. Now it appears brilliant. The way Jeno looks at him gives him the feeling that this might not be as stupid of an idea as he thought.

Before he could lean in, Jaemin’s phone rings. He has half a mind to ignore it, not wanting the moment to disappear – but Jeno’s already pulling away and it’s over. He reluctantly accepts the call.

“ _ Where _ are you?” Renjun asks sharply through the phone and Jaemin winces.

“At Jeno’s,” he answers, feeling embarrassed.

There are a loud sigh and Donghyuck’s cackle that indicates that he’s put on speaker. “I can’t believe I fought a person for you today and you have the audacity to go over to your boyfriend’s house and leave us behind here.”

Jaemin quickly glances at Jeno to see if he heard that but Jeno’s back is to him. 

“He’s not my—” he hisses but he’s quickly cut off by Renjun. 

“Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that. Now, if you ever plan to return home please grab some ice cream.”

There’s silence and Jaemin realises that Renjun hung up on him. 

“Jeno,” he calls for his attention. Jeno whips his head around. “I’ve got to go now. Sorry for disturbing you.”

Jeno’s gaze on him softens and Jaemin doesn’t bear looking at him anymore.

“You didn’t disturb me.” 

They stand there, neither of them looking at the other. Some things are better not to be acknowledged between them yet, Jaemin decides. One of them is how Jaemin wanted to kiss Jeno. The other is how Jeno looked like he didn’t mind.

“Do you want to come over? Hang out with us?” Jaemin asks suddenly. Jeno perks up and smiles, brightening up the dimly lit room.

“Sure.”

*** 

There’s a rumour circling on the Internet about them not being in a real relationship and that it’s all media play. Which was, Jaemin thinks, fucking due. How did the public just eat up all the lies they’ve been feeding them is a mystery for him because even for his own standards they’ve been sloppy. It’s a miracle they’ve not been caught on sooner. The paparazzi always getting tips where the 5 percent sweetheart will spend the night, the artfully organized use of the fans around them and just enough details on each and every social media post to keep people on their toes. All respect due to mastermind Donghyuck Lee who finally found his passion for deceiving the public.

But sometimes Jeno and Jaemin wind up in banter in front of everyone, in the middle of a romantic dinner or in front of a clueless staff member – and sadly, neither of them is backing away easily. 

“Jaemin, I’m not watching  _ Detective Pikachu _ for the  _ third _ time because you have a massive crush on Ryan Reynolds,” Jeno’s voice is coming from the speakers. Okay, it’s not bad. It sounds like normal chitchat between couples.

“Maybe, just maybe if you haven’t slept through the film every time we watch it,  _ asshole _ ,” Jaemin hissed and oh boy, this is bad. “You’d know that he shows up for like 5 minutes at max, so no, I’m not watching for him. I watch it because it’s a cinematic masterpiece.”

“I can’t believe I have to do this instead of studying for mid-terms,” Jeno said with an excessive roll of his eyes. Jaemin thinks that even with the crappy quality of the video, this sassy Jeno is hot.

Back to focus.

He sees himself smiling widely, what Jeno would call a ‘shit-eating grin’, and he leant into Jeno’s private space.

“Well, think of the agreement. No dates, no mid-terms to study for.”

Well, shit.

Jaemin’s mind races with thoughts on how to explain this. First of all, Jeno’s going to kick his ass for this. He’s been constantly telling him to be more careful with bringing up the agreement, especially in public but Jaemin can’t help when he reacts to it so well. Secondly, Donghyuck is also going to kick his ass for fucking up his perfectly calculated relationship story. He can’t even cover behind Renjun either as he always takes Donghyuck’s side when it’s coming to bully Jaemin.

** jaemin’s wife: **

now if I think about it, all their dates are covered by the media 

** chaoticgoodboy: **

that’s right. they’re a really mediated couple. wouldn’t be surprised if it’s a PR stunt.

** jaemjaem ** :

why would they do that? they’re literally flaunting a dead-end relationship.

** letjaeminsayfuck **

finally!!! this is what I’ve been talking about!! I don’t really get what they gain from this little stunt but this relationship is soooo obviously fake

The phone rings while he tries to convince himself that this situation is not too bad. It’s Donghyuck. He considers cancelling the call – honestly, he needs a few more minutes to really absorb this. To find a solution that he can present to Donghyuck so he wouldn’t be so mad about it. But then his anger will multiply by each passing second Jaemin procrastinates to face his wrath. So he does end up picking up with a deep sigh. 

“What did you do?” Donghyuck hisses into the phone and Jaemin can tell from his tone that he’s  _ very _ pissed.

“It’s Jeno’s fault,” Jaemin tries.

“No, it’s fucking not,” Donghyuck voice grows louder and louder. “It’s your fault Na, and your big mouth and your tiny brain that thinks – whom I’m joking with, you clearly can’t think – that if you spit bars, you’ll win the argument.”

“For your information, I did win the argument. We watched  _ Detective Pikachu _ ,” Jaemin says, placing himself down on his couch. He rests his head on a cushion and closes his eyes. He wishes he’d be asleep right now. Maybe things would solve themselves eventually, things falling into their respectable places without any external help.

“Congratulations. Now I get it why Jeno doesn’t like you.”

Jaemin’s eyes shoot open, zeroing on only one piece of information. “He doesn’t like me? He said that?”

There’s silence on the other side of the phone. Then Donghyuck asks in a smaller voice, “Why did you get sad so suddenly?”

“Because I thought he hates me. I worked hard for him to hate me and what does he do? Just dislike me.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Donghyuck says and he can practically hear the eye-roll in his voice. “And a liar.”

“What?”

“I’ll let you figure this one out yourself,” his manager chuckles like he knows something funny that Jaemin doesn’t. “But I’m not going to clean up your mess. Do it yourself.”

And he hangs up.

Sometimes Jaemin wonders if Donghyuck is aware he’s working for him and not the contrary. 

He settles himself back on the couch, ready to let himself take a pity nap so when he wakes again he’ll have a fresh brain to think things through – when his phone rings again.

** JeNO ** , he reads.

When did he get so popular, Jaemin wonders?

“My dearest Jeno! What can I help you on this fine day?” he fake cheers.

“Why did you do?” Jeno’s voice is dark. Disappointment doesn’t suit him, Jaemin thinks, feeling his own stomach drop at the accusation.

“Why is everyone asking me this? It was your fault!” he tries to defend himself.

“Mine? How can it be mine? You said ‘think about the agreement’ out loud!” 

“You prompted it!” For a minute there’s only cold silence and Jaemin checks if Jeno decided to hang upon him. “Okay,  _ sorry _ . Maybe it was  _ our _ fault. I forgive you Jeno if you forgive me.”

There’s a tired sigh. 

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Thanks.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” Jeno scoffs. Jaemin notices that Jeno is picking up traits from Donghyuck and makes a mental note not to let them hang out so much because his manager is rubbing off on Jeno so badly. “Look, think about how we can make this up. I’ll try to find something as well.”

“Jeno—” He starts but the line goes off.

***

Sometimes Jaemin plays the game, “ _ What Jeno would do? _ ” because seeing Jeno being so openly and bluntly honest with people around him, inspired him to do similarly. Of course, he won’t just go around and call people out for their bullshit because that just not how the show business works. But he wants to be a bit more honest with himself – it’s a start. 

What Jeno would possibly not do is sneaking into the university library with a cap on his head and his hoodie tightly set over it, obviously looking like someone who’s hiding something. But he needs advice and Jeno doesn’t pick up his phone anymore and doesn’t answer his texts. That means he’s in some kind of trance in the library, possibly forgetting to eat and drink while studying – so he prepares his credit card too, to treat him some food after he finished. The other possibility is that he’s ignoring him but he doesn’t like to think about that so he just ignores this option.

Some students look at him weirdly but honestly, it is mid-terms time and they don’t have the energy to focus on other things than their work. He’s brought a notepad and his MacBook with him for full coverage and he leisurely walks through the library, looking around for a familiar mop of black hair and metal wired glasses. 

“Jaemin,” a familiar voice comes from behind his back but he doesn’t risk turning back and exposing himself. “What are you doing here?” 

Jaemin pulls his cap lower on his face, “You’re mistaken. I don’t know any Jaemin.”

“Oh, so you’re not my dumbass boyfriend? Good for me.”

Jaemin snaps his head back to look at the source of the voice. There’s Jeno, leaning with his shoulder on a vending machine, a completely blank expression etched on his face, holding a can of coke. Jaemin pushes down the feeling of snapping a picture of him because of the campus heartthrob vibes he’s oozing off, with his messy hair, glasses threw on and—

“Is that a good outfit on you?” Jaemin has to take another look. A black turtleneck and fitting black ripped jeans that complement Jeno’s body, something similar to what Jaemin made him wear on their first date, except that not everything a size too small. 

“Oh no. It’s him. The dumbass boyfriend cosplaying as a college student,” another voice says and Jaemin has a hard time tearing his eyes away from Jeno. Beside him, not noticing until now, stands Heejin.

“Jeon,” Jaemin nods.

“Na,” Heejin responses coolly. 

“Heejin, go back to the study group. I’ve got to talk with Jaemin,” Jeno says, patting Heejin’s head lightly. He passes her the rest of the beverages he was holding.

“Okay, lover boy.” She bumps their hips. She hisses to Jaemin, “Watch your back, Na.”

“Why are you friends with that witch? I’m genuinely afraid she’ll put a spell on me,” Jaemin whispers to Jeno when Heejin is out of earshot. When he first met Jeno’s friends, he took an instant liking on Mark – but to be honest, who didn’t? But Heejin, even though Jeno told him she’s a big fan of his, acted like rigid and distant with Jaemin, draping herself over Jeno like she was afraid Jaemin would hurt him.

“She’s nice, it’s just you whom she doesn’t like,” Jeno says with a smile.

“ _ Wow _ , good to know. Do you think I should start carrying silver?” Jaemin muses. 

“That’s for vampires, Jaemin.” 

“I’ve got to prepare for every possibility,” he shrugs. Sweeping his eyes again on Jeno’s frame, he asks, “Why are you wearing that, anyway? Are you going on a date?”

“Yeah?” Jeno answers sheepishly. He runs a hand on his silky black lock. Seeing Jaemin’s shoulders drop, he tilts his head, clearly confused. “A date with you, idiot?”

Jaemin perks up.

“I thought that to make up the rumour, we should just prove them wrong,” Jeno explains. “So I planned to take you on a date.”

“Oh, I see,” Jaemin nods, suddenly feeling senseless for assuming something else. He knows he has no right to feel like this. Jeno can date whoever he wants as long as it doesn’t hurt the plan because they aren’t really together. After all, this is going on for almost 8 months – he would need to understand if Jeno didn’t want to waste the precious moment of his youth catering for Jaemin for a plan that doesn’t seem to work. 

“What are you doing here, anyway?” Jeno’s expression is puzzled as he looks at Jaemin’s attire like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“You didn’t answer my texts so I kind of wondered if you’re mad at me,” saying it aloud sounded stupid even for his own ears.

Jeno laughs loudly, earning a few glances from people around them. 

“I was studying, though? You’re so impulsive,” he says, pinching Jaemin’s cheek. “You can stop looking like a kicked puppy now.”

Suddenly embarrassed, Jaemin takes a step back, pulling his cap lower on his face. “Okay, then. Mission accomplished. I’ll go home and uhm, pick me up when you’re ready.”

Jaemin doesn’t usually feel ashamed. He’s too shameless for that – fans asking all types of bullshit from him killed off any kind of a shame that could resurface in him. But now, he feels just too needy and too stupid to just show up there, risking being recognized and bringing more problem on them. 

He’s about to walk out of the toilet when Jeno stops him by placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Stay,” Jeno says. “We’ll finish in half an hour and then we can go straight to the date.”

“Okay,” Jaemin nods.

There are two reasons why he agrees to stay. For one, is that it’d be nice being part of the campus life – just trying out how life would be if he chose to attend college, something that has been taking up more and more space in his mind since the involuntary break he’s been forced to be. Secondly, he wants to see Jeno in his elements. He imagines him to behave like a born leader among the group, leading them through the problems with ease. 

“Our study group is small, right now,” Jeno explains as they walk side by side. He’s calm and open – Jaemin didn’t expect him to be because of the ruckus he’s created. “A lot of people dropped out because – y’know, our soulmate percentage.”

An odd feeling brews in Jaemin’s stomach. He sees people gawking at Jeno, whispering behind their hands, eyes glued to him and how the crowd practically opens before him like he’s contagious. He also notices the small tremor of his hands and his eyes flickering around, mostly to never look at anyone directly.

Jaemin knows Jeno’s not the type who feels better with touches. Yet he can’t help but slip his hand into the other’s, intertwining their fingers into a lose hold. Jeno looks up at him quizzically but he doesn’t pull away. 

“It sucks,” Jaemin says. “It’s just a number and it takes away so much.”

People around them snap pictures and Jaemin knows he’s just feeding the fire right now – but he doesn’t care. He never really thought that this all affects Jeno so much. He doesn’t show it. Even now, he doesn’t say anything about how people treat him. He just shoulders it like it can’t be helped and carries on. 

This is admirable.

Also very stupid of him.

“Jeno,” Jaemin starts softly. “I know we set out on the wrong foot. But if you ever want to talk about this, you know I’d understand.”

Jaemin just knows that Mark is worried about him, he spilt it during their weekly get together and reluctantly but he has to admit that Heejin does a wonderful job keeping the bullies away. They’re both trying to make up for the missing friends, asking questions and keeping Jeno busy so he doesn’t think about the other 4 who are missing from the table.

“I know.” Jeno squeezes their hands tighter together. “It’s just sad that people don’t see me anymore. They see the number and judge me by that. And not just those whom I don’t know personally. Even some of my own friends turned their back to me.”

“I’m so sorry Jeno,” Jaemin says, wishing that Jeno hears the sincerity in his words. “Tell me if I can help somehow.”

“Listening to me is enough. It makes me feel less alone,” he says with a half-smile. “Maybe it’s my time to show up at yours agitated.”

Jaemin chuckles and bumps their shoulders. “Anytime.”

“I can’t believe you thought normal college students show up in a Dior hoodie with a Dior cap.” He looks at Jaemin with a disapproving expression. “We get it, you’re sponsored. But where’s the authenticity?”

“I  _ was _ sponsored. And I’m channelling the rich foreign student role.”

Jeno just shakes his head.

***

“Hey, sorry for disappearing, I’ve got hold up,” Jeno sheepishly scratches the back of his neck but all eyes are on Jaemin. “Uh, this is my boyfriend – Jaemin.” 

Jaemin waves with a big smile.

The study group consist of 5 people right now – Jeno, as the organizer; best friends duo Mark and Heejin; Hyunjin who turns out to be Heejin’s girlfriend slash soulmate and – Yeri.

Hyunjin turns out to be a total sweetheart and an oddball, the complete opposite of Heejin because contrary to Heejin, she doesn’t hate Jaemin’s guts as an edgy personality trait. She’s easy to joke with and making schemes during the study group because she’s actually not an engineering student, she just tags alone because otherwise, it’s impossible to catch Heejin outside of the premises of the library. So they compete who can make Heejin angrier – and while Jaemin has a headlong start because he only has to utter a word and she’s immediately at his throat, Hyunjin ends up winning the bet, and now he’s 10 bucks shorter but he’s satisfied to gain a new friend. 

Yeri, on the other hand, is something entirely else. She’s nice, she’s incredibly pretty – she probably has hots for Jeno. Which is understandable, Jaemin has to admit, seeing Jeno in his element is hot. There’s this passion in his eyes as he explains formulas that make no sense for Jaemin, his words concise and clear, his face open and friendly. So he understands, really. But also, that’s his fake boyfriend right here, he can feel a little bit jealous, right? 

So when the next time, Yeri laughs at something remotely funny Jeno has said – which, okay was actually funny but Jaemin knows better than to fuel the fire – and runs a hand on Jeno’s biceps, he decides he can’t let it slide like that. 

Hyunjin goes back to work on her own readings and stops entertaining Jaemin. The others are too focused on listening to Jeno to notice when he taps Jeno’s hand with a finger and Jeno, mindlessly, still going on about a formula, turns his palm upward for Jaemin to slide his hands into his, treading his fingers with Jeno’s. This is nice, he decides. Jeno no longer sends him questioning looks when there is physical contact involved – he just knows Jaemin thrives on touches so he just lets him have his way. In these times like this, it dawns on Jaemin how they are slowly but surely growing closer.

He catches Yeri’s gaze on their intertwined hands. For good measure and because he’s petty as hell, Jaemin leans his head on Jeno’s shoulder. The other reaches up and caresses his head.

“Just another few minutes,” Jeno whispers into his ear. Jaemin just nods because honestly, he could stay like this for a while. His soulmate’s body is warm against his, his voice is even and soft, he smells great – and suddenly he feels drowsy.

*** 

When he next wakes, there is dark outside. The huge windows of the library no longer let the sunshine in, instead the artificial white lights take the role of creating the feeling of daytime. Jaemin sighs and he lets out a groan as he straightens his back, a few joints cracking into place. His neck hurts but it worth it – he had a great, stress-free nap he’s been craving for. When he looks over the table and apologize for literally sleeping on them, there’s no one but the two of them.

“Good to know you’re still alive,” Jeno says, not looking up from his laptop as he reads. “I was afraid I have to call the ambulance, you passed out so long.”

Jaemin decides he’s still too sleepy for dealing with Jeno’s comments, so he just ignores him and asks, “What time is it?”

Jeno finally looks at him and he pushes up his glasses, “It’s 10PM. You’ve slept for 4 hours.” 

“You could’ve woken me up,” Jaemin mumbles, squinting at Jeno. The lights hurt his eyes and he still feels hazy, mouth cottony – this was one of the best naps he’s taken since the beginning of this melodrama around their percentage. 

Jeno closes his laptop, turning with his full body towards Jaemin. “You looked like you needed a nap.”

Jaemin nods, taking off his cap to run his fingers through his matted hair. Jeno follows the movement with his eyes, not saying anything but there is a secretive small smile on his face. Jaemin wants to ask what’s so funny but Jeno stands, gathering his stuff and holding out a hand for Jaemin to help him up. For a moment, Jaemin stares at his hand, then up at him, the machinery in his mind finally kicking into gears when he once again, amazed by the neat lines of Jeno’s body – something that he’s not often fortunate to see.

Jaemin takes his hand and Jeno pulls him up, not letting him go even after. With a confused expression, he asks, “What about the date you’ve planned?”

Jeno peeks a look at him from head to toe, self-satisfied grin growing on his lips and turning his eyes into crescents. “Taking you anywhere looking like that? I don’t think so.”

“Jeno Lee,” Jaemin’s voice is a warning. Jeno laughs, freely, earning some dirty glances from other over-caffeinated students cramming last minute but he doesn’t seem to pay them much attention. 

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” he says, bumping their shoulders together. “But it’s okay. You still seem a little bit tired and I just wanted to take you on a coffee date. We can do that next time.”

Jaemin nods. He does feel tired, the muscles in his back tense and his hurting neck screams for the softness of his mattress. While he’s sorry for the missed date, as it’s usually Jaemin or even more, Donghyuck who’s organizing these events and Jeno has only done so only a handful of times – but they are always fun in the end, even if the only evidence of the date is a blurred photo on Instagram. 

“This Yeri girl—” Jaemin starts but he trails off. He isn’t sure how to articulate what he wants to ask without uncovering how he really feels.

“Yes?”

“Do you like her?” It slips from his lips. He’s quickly trying to regain his footing by saying, “I mean, she’s really pretty and I think she has a thing for you.”

Jaemin is not a fool enough not to realise what he was feeling when he saw this beautiful girl staring at Jeno like he hung the stars. He recognizes this ugly emotion and tries to push it down, hoping it wouldn’t resurface again anytime soon. He’s too tired to try and unearth the implications his jealousy holds.

Jeno turns to him with a puzzled expression that any other time Jaemin would’ve laughed at for looking like a confused puppy but he doesn’t find the will in himself to do so.

“I mean, she’s sweet,” Jeno cautiously starts. “But I look at her like an older sister. Why?”

Jaemin shrugs. “Just curious.”

“Also, we have this thing going on. I wouldn’t risk the success of it,” Jeno’s smile is wry as he says. 

Jaemin dramatically swoons, “What a loyal man.

“But seriously, Jeno. Think of the future. Don’t drive her away too soon.” Jaemin tries to act nonchalant but his own words hurt him. The more time he spends with Jeno, the more he doesn’t want this pretending to end because at least, he’s still only an arm's length away. But he needs to get used to it, spitting out his own hurtful words so their edges turn blunt when they drive into him.

“I  _ am _ thinking of the future,” Jeno says sharply and glances at Jaemin. 

Jaemin turns away, not wanting to read into the situation more than it is.

Rather, he accidentally looks down at their intervened hands. Jeno’s thumb caresses his skin, drawing circles absentmindedly. He checks himself – he’s not particularly upset, mind focusing on the presence of Jeno in his orbit. He’s calm and collected, he doesn’t need any support right now. The realization hits Jaemin like a ton of bricks.

“You like holding hands,” he says accusingly. 

Jeno furrows his eyebrows and follows the trail of Jaemin’s gaze down to their hands. He lets out a small, questioning sound. 

“Huh? Is it a problem? I thought you also like holding hands,” Jeno says, although slightly embarrassed and he’s about to let go off Jaemin’s hand when the other grips his fingers tighter, no intention of letting Jeno go. 

Jaemin tuts and shakes his head. “Not a problem for me. I like it.  _ You _ , though, I thought you just do it for my sake. You don’t seem very fond of touching people.”

Jeno gives Jaemin a noncommittal shrug. “I like touching people whom I’m comfortable with.”

Jaemin falters. “Are you comfortable with me?”

Jeno looks at him like Jaemin lost his mind like the question is ridiculous to even consider. “Of course.”

“Rookie mistake, Jeno Lee,” Jaemin lets out a weak laugh. “Rookie mistake.”

*** 

Jaemin is rudely woken up by the sound of his annoying ringtone set for the most annoying person he knows – Donghyuck. He accepts the call like he’s trained for it, something about negative reinforcement rings in his head with a picture of Donghyuck yelling at him. 

“Whatever you did, you’re forgiven,” he states in lieu of a greeting. Jaemin pushes himself up on his elbows, waiting for Donghyuck to elaborate. But he meets nothing but silence on the other side. He tiredly runs a hand on his face.

“What? Donghyuck why the fuck are you calling at ass o’clock?”

“It’s 10AM. Get your lazy ass out of bed,” Donghyuck scolds. “But I strongly suggest you to check the forums.”

“Hang on.”

Jaemin reaches for his laptop on the nightstand, while Donghyuck is filling him on some juicy gossips, deliberately not telling Jaemin anything about the reason why he called him. He searches for his name and the search engine throws up some forums. He clicks on the first.

**_ For people telling they are fake _ ** , he reads. Below there are pictures attached of them in the library. There are a few when they stroll around, hand in hand and a few of him sleeping on Jeno’s shoulder while he’s explaining something. Otherwise, he would frown upon seeing such intimate pictures of himself being scattered over the Internet but checking the reactions, he doesn’t find it himself to actually be angry. The mostly positive reactions ranging from ‘ _ omg!!!!!! _ ’ to ‘ _ these two are disgustingly cute. I approve _ ’ give him the ability to finally take a big breathe, shoulders sagging in relief.

“Congrats. You’re not as stupid as we all believed. We’re all surprised,” Donghyuck’s voice comes from the receiver. 

“Define ‘we’.”

“Oh just me, Renjun and that Markie boy have a running bet. I would include Heejin too but she said this would all lead to a catastrophe, so she’s disqualified.”

“What kind of bet?” Jaemin frowns. He goes back to the pictures and stares at the one, where he’s asleep on Jeno’s shoulder, their surrounding is deserted and Jeno looks at him with a soft expression. If he saves the picture, no one has to know. “And when did you get so chummy with those two?”

“It’s still on so I’m not telling you,” Donghyuck says. He lets out a dramatic sigh. “We got close watching our disaster friends trying to fake-date and bring down the government at the same fucking time. Trauma brings people together.”

“We’re not disasters,” Jaemin mumbles. “And stop betting on us.”

Donghyuck chuckles.

“Never mind a thing. Whatever you did was great.”

*** 

Jeno sometimes thinks that he likes staying out of attention. He likes staying on the sidelines, watching others play but doesn’t like participating himself. But it’s all too hard to say the same when he gets into the spotlight that is Jaemin’s eyes on him, unabashed and relentless. Jeno preens under his attention blooms with an odd mixture of a sudden spur of confidence and warmth. 

The warm hand in the small of his back signals that he’s doing well. From time to time, Jeno peeks back at Jaemin, to see if he’s still holding his undivided attention – and his eyes are always there, boring holes into him, holding him hostage in the warmth in them. 

“Whatcha staring at?” Jeno asks. The question has been eating him alive in the past days when he found an innocent thread on Twitter, collecting moments of Jaemin zeroing on him only. He never noticed, until the thread. 

“Your face,” Jaemin answers, truthful and unashamed. He doesn’t divert his eyes, nor does he act like he isn’t staring. Jeno wraps his lips around the straw, blushing when Jaemin’s eyes flicker down. 

“Why?”

Jaemin furrows his eyebrows like he hasn’t thought about it yet. “I think you have a nice face.”

“You mean handsome.”

“Ooh. Are we getting cocky, Jeno Lee?” Jaemin points his chopsticks at him accusingly. “How astonishing. Never would have thought that about you.”

“Oh, come off it. Stop staring, though. People are starting to notice it.”

“And what’s the problem with that?” Jaemin tilts his head and smiles sweetly with his mouth full. “We’re together, after all.”

Yes, Jeno wants to say. But this doesn’t feel like acting anymore.

But he’s a coward and instead of saying that, he digs into his food.

***

Sometimes kissing Jeno feels a little too real. Sometimes the kiss would linger a moment too long, sometimes it’s a little too sweet or too heated. Jaemin is not sure if it’s only his doing if he’s imagining too much into a simple kiss. But then Jeno would run his tongue on his chapped lips, or he would bite on his bottom lip – and he just  _ knows _ . Jaemin knows where it is leading. He also knows that he shouldn’t let this happen – he sees the remorse in Jeno’s black eyes glinting with such ferocity that Jaemin’s afraid he’s misunderstanding the situation. But then that look would dissolve into thin air and Jeno smiles at him, eyes turning into little crescents – and Jaemin’s a goner. 

Sometimes Jaemin wonders if he knows what he’s doing. If Jeno knows the power he holds over Jaemin whenever he just silently offers a hand to hold on or whenever he helps Jaemin tucking back his unruly hair. He wonders if he knows that each time he gets weaker and more vulnerable to him, destroying every ounce of self-defence he has. 

It's a dangerous game, acting like he's in love when he really is. He starts to fear he's letting too much on, that he makes it weird. That Jeno slowly realises, however oblivious he is, and he breaks this off. 

And it's better having him like this than not having him close at all.

*** 

Jeno doesn’t remember when his disdain towards Jaemin turned into something like actually liking spending time with him. It irks him. He feels like a fool – Jaemin is doing this, he hangs out with Jeno so they can scam people into thinking they’re a thing, happy despite matching 5 percent and not because he likes tagging along with Jeno. 

Jeno knows he’s not very entertaining and sometimes slow. People don’t really appreciate his humour or the way he likes to keep to himself. He only has a handful of friends, not like he ever yearned for more. But sometimes it just hits him – you’re no one’s first choice. Discovering that even his so-called soulmate doesn’t match him only worsened the feeling. In these times, when he’s so deep into his head, he likes to isolate himself, closing himself off entirely from the world and throw himself into work. He can spend days in his tiny apartment, holed up with a project that is not due for several weeks until he feels like he can resurface and face the world again.

Mark and Heejin respect his and leaves him to be. In the beginning, they marched in and tore Jeno away from his work, pushing him to go to parties he never liked until one time he snapped. They learnt that this is the way he coped when things begin to be too rough to him to deal with and while isolating himself from his friends is never a really good idea, this is his way to make things right in his head.

But trust Jaemin to never respect his need to be alone.

“Open up, Jeno Lee, it’s me ya boy,” Jaemin yells from outside of his entrance door, not caring about his neighbours and that it’s nearly 11PM. In the afternoon, he received a text from Jaemin saying,  _ a romantic stroll in the park? _ and Jeno took all his energy to respond  _ sorry i can’t i’m not feeling well _ . Which was not entirely a lie because he really isn’t feeling well right now if his constant despair is any lead on that. 

Jeno decides to stay where he is. Jaemin isn’t really a patient kid, he’ll get bored quickly by Jeno’s silent treatment and he’ll leave. At least, that’s what he hopes. There is another loud banging on his door but all he does is turning up the volume of music – and Jaemin might get the memo that he’s not in the mood to meet him.

For a few moments, there is silence. Jeno, being as naïve as he is, thinks that his plan has worked. Jaemin left and Jeno is already composing the apology text in his head to the time he feels like he can face Jaemin without a hitch.

Oh boy, he was wrong.

The entrance door flies open, revealing a slightly ruffled Jaemin. There is a scowl on his face and Jeno wonders if it’s the first time Jaemin Na was ever denied something. He quickly collects himself, brushing his pastel pink hair into place and marches up to Jeno into his living room.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” 

If Jeno thinks about it, it’s really not that surprising. When was the last time Jaemin didn’t just push through with his will, not really caring what Jeno wants? Never.

“I was being polite when I knocked on your door. I’ve my own key,” he says and dangles the identical key in front of Jeno’s eyes. He looks so satisfied with this like he’s been waiting for the moment to unveil his evil plan. He quickly pockets his key before Jeno could snatch them out of his hand and drops the bag of groceries from his other hand on the floor. “Mark said you’re moping.”

“I’m not  _ moping _ ,” he complains. “And stop talking with my friends.” 

But Jaemin knows his soft spot and he’s not hesitant to beat him there – Jeno’s interest is immediately picked up by seeing fresh vegetables and meat peeking out of the bag.

“Oh, hypocrite.  _ You _ stop talking with my friends and I’ll do that too.”

Jeno can’t promise that. Donghyuck and Renjun are fun to talk, fun to be around and their constant banter and teasing make Jeno feel like he has been accepted into the group. Also, Jaemin who always seems so open and honest, never really revealed about himself too much. Jeno always has to go behind his back to check if he likes or dislikes something – like the time when Jeno took him to an ice cream shop and Jaemin just tightly smiled and ate his ice cream, only to Donghyuck to later call him and yell at him why he was feeding Jaemin with dairy when he’s lactose intolerant. When Jeno confronted him next time on  _ why the hell didn’t you tell me _ , Jaemin just smiled, shrugged and said,  _ I love living wildly _ .

“I’m not mopey,” Jeno repeats so it might go through Jaemin’s thick skull. “But I’m not feeling well and I’d love to be alone.”

Jaemin looks at him and clicks his tongue. “I can’t believe this is the 5 percent where we match.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I also isolate myself when I’m feeling down.” He walks over to Jeno and pats his head and cards through his hair.

“Okay,” Jeno draws the consonant. “Then you get it. So leave.”

“I will. But first, because for facts, I know you’ve been living on instant ramen and cereal for the last few days again, I’ll make you something healthy to eat. Then I’ll completely destroy you in  _ Mario Kart _ . And just then I’ll take my leave and you can continue moping alone.”

Jeno takes off his glasses and rubs his tired eyes. He’s been studying the past days, the upcoming project is almost done and essays are written. What he would like to do is take a long, hot shower, watch some mind-numbing shows on Netflix and sleep for the next 12 or more hours. In this tight schedule, there is no place for Jaemin with his Instagram pictures or Twitter rants of their fake love life. He’s not in the mood to be Jaemin’s little pet project.

“You don’t have to act like you actually like spending time with me,” Jeno says, tiredness snapping something in him. “We don’t have to hang out if others don’t see. I know you hate me.”

Jaemin’s fingers stop running through Jeno’s soft locks. 

“I don’t  _ hate _ you, Jeno Lee,” Jaemin declares vehemently. “We’re not in fucking kindergarten.”

Jeno doesn’t look up from his drawing, busying himself so he doesn’t have to meet with Jaemin’s eyes. Jaemin plops down next to him on the floor and leans on Jeno, causing him to mess up his sketch. 

He’s truly tired. He’s tired of being in this fake relationship with oh so great Jaemin Na. He’s tired overhearing people questioning just how and why someone as simple as Jeno can be the type of actor Na. He’s tired of society treating them either as shit or as they’re like some circus animals just because their DNAs don’t match. 

“Is this why you’re moping? Because you think I hate you?” Jaemin asks, bumping his shoulder to Jeno’s.

Jeno doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t hate you because we don’t match,” Jaemin chuckles like the idea is ridiculous. “Which is like crazy wrong because I do think we match, just not on the fundamental levels. Because if you think about it, we  _ do _ match. I mean yes, your personality is so calm like the ocean and I’m a bit—”

“Chaotic,” Jeno helps out.

“Loud,” Jaemin looks at him with distaste. “But we’re more similar than people think.”

“And I enjoy spending time with you, Jeno,” Jaemin’s voice wavers to the end of the sentence like he’s not sure. But it spreads in Jeno, it feels hot and content, warming him up from the inside. 

Maybe it’s the tension that has been building inside of Jeno since the first time they’ve met. Maybe it’s the feeling of never being anyone’s first choice, never finding anyone who would choose him and never let him go. Maybe it’s the desperation and the ebbing feeling for Jaemin’s attention that has been brewing inside of him since Jaemin began to open up more for him. But Jeno places a hand on Jaemin’s cheek and hold him there. For a moment, neither of them is brave enough to move, too immersed in each other’s orbit. 

Their breaths mingle and Jeno can’t help when his eyes flicker down to stare at Jaemin’s lips. He was kissed by them several times and he knows how they taste like. How they feel against his own, how Jaemin smiles into the kiss and how he runs his tongue on Jeno’s lips. He waits for Jaemin to pull away, to stop this madness because clearly, Jeno cannot stop himself. But Jaemin stares back unmoving and almost in a trance as he mirrors Jeno's expression. 

There is something in this moment, the make or break situation that makes Jeno afraid to move. The air around them vibrates from the tension that oozes off them, Jeno's heartbeat loud in his ears. He hopes Jaemin doesn't hear it. 

Jeno’s mind stops working. This is the only explanation why his body moves on its own, captured by the gravitational pull that is Jaemin's presence and Jeno leans on and breathes a kiss on Jaemin's lips. It's small, only a brush of their lips -- but it's something that shouldn't have happened. Something that is way too over their boundaries, too much venturing into a territory that is unknown for Jeno. 

Jaemin doesn't seem to share the sentiment because when Jeno is about to pull back, he sneaks a hand on Jeno's nape to make him stay and he crashes their lips together. Their noses and teeth bump together and it's not perfect -- all raw and sudden and entirely frightening but they are doing it and there is no way they can backpedal now. It is not the kiss they would do in front of the paparazzi, it is not to show how much they love each other, how happy they are in their relationship. No, it's something else. Jeno tries to think, tries to figure it out and name it but he can't – he can't attach meaning to it except that it finally feels real. For the first time, they've started this, it feels real. 

Jaemin runs his tongue on Jeno's bottom lip, then bites on it. There is something rushed in the way Jaemin pulls away but immediately returns like he's afraid if he bursts their little bubble all of this would disappear. He kisses the corner of Jeno's mouth, moving down to kiss his jaw, kiss down on the length of his neck, way too carefully than Jeno would have expected it from him. His eyelashes tickle Jeno's cheeks as he leaves love bites on his neck and a small sound escapes from the back of his throat. It startles him from his daze and realizes how wrong it is. How wrong of them to kiss like this in the middle of Jeno's apartment, surrounded with trash and fresh groceries, on the floor. How wrong it is that they practically count as colleagues based on their agreement. How wrong it is that Jaemin already has one hand sneakily hiding under the neckline of Jeno's hoodie, thumb drawing circles on his collarbone. How wrong it would be if Jeno doesn't stop now, this will lead to something so much worse, so much bigger than either of them can shoulder.

He inhales shakily. He places a hand on Jaemin's chest and pushes him away softly. Jaemin doesn't fight against it, doesn't try to pull him back into a kiss. His eyes flutter open, first unfocused but the weight of the situation quickly forces him to zero on Jeno again. 

“Jaemin. This was a mistake," he says but somehow the words taste bitter on his tongue. He can see Jaemin's slack jaw tightens, his mouth turning into a sharp line, every emotion that has reflected on his face before is carefully masked under a stoic expression. 

“Yeah. It was a mistake.”

***

They don't speak about it. Jaemin acts nonchalantly around him but there's something distant in him that reminds Jeno of the first weeks of their fake relationship when neither of them really knew where they stood with each other. He jokes, he laughs and he still talks to Jeno like always, except that he keeps a few steps between them. Jaemin likes touching. Jeno learnt that in a hard way – Jaemin loves holding hands, cuddling or just being impossibly close. He usually argues that it's because Jeno's warm and he just needs some extra warmth. Jeno, continuously forced to hold hands realised that it’s actually nice – but now, reaching out to link their fingers seems like an undoable task.

Jeno watches Jaemin prepare their dinner, brows furrowed and lips tightly set. His fingers work diligently, knife operating skilfully in his hands. Jeno feels useless, sitting on a chair, pretending to work on something on his laptop, typing away. He can't concentrate on the words on the monitor, eyes always finding Jaemin. Once the kitchen seemed small and overcrowded with Jaemin’s domineering personality. Now it feels big enough for them to put a wall between themselves.

He knows he should say something. Maybe explain himself because after all, he was the one who kissed Jaemin first. Or maybe apologize for the kiss. But he can't bring himself to do that. He already said it was a mistake – even if it felt like everything but a mistake. Maybe he’ll just have to wait for Jaemin to bounce back, to laugh off the kiss, never the one to hold something like this against someone else. Jeno will also laugh, blaming it on the loneliness that his individual solitude brought on him and they’ll be okay.

At least he hopes so.


	5. Chapter 5

Things don’t change quickly. Especially when ideas like these are embedded into the consciousness of the people for so long, but there is _progress_. Jaemin is rudely woken up one day by Donghyuck, shaking him furiously. When Jaemin cracks an eye open to see what the fuss is about, his manager’s cheeks are burning and there’s a huge toothy grin splitting his lips.

“What?” Jaemin croaks, wanting nothing more than to push Donghyuck off the bed. Rather, he finds, holding onto his neck and embracing him as an oversized teddy bear shuts him up better on most days. But not now.

“Oh, nothing,” Donghyuck’s voice is muffled against Jaemin’s chest. “You just got offered a leading role in a drama.”

Jaemin sits up immediately, pushing Donghyuck off his chest. He doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. “A _what_?!”

“A leading role. I’ve already skipped through the majority of the script, a bit cliché but it’s more than okay for a comeback,” Donghyuck feverishly explains, the smugness is crystal clear in his voice. “I accept flowers and money for my deeds. You’re welcome.” 

“But _how_?” Jaemin feels stupid and petrified at the same time, only able to spit two-word questions and nothing more. He doesn’t dare to let himself feel anything, for now, too afraid this is merely a dream he’d wake up from any time now. 

“The director said he’s been eyeing you for the role but he wasn’t sure about the reaction of the public. They ran a few surveys with the PR team and it turned out your little stunt with Jeno evoked sympathy from the people, especially for the younger generations. Elderlies are another topic, they insist on keeping traditions more.” As Donghyuck speaks, he lays his head on Jaemin’s lap and closes his eyes. “They deemed the attitude of the public favourable to you, hence you get the leading role. They’re taking chances but so are you.”

Jaemin burrows his fingers into Donghyuck’s tangled caramel curls. He’s mum for minutes, trying to process what he’s heard. The public attitude is slowly but surely changing, giving him a way to continue acting. It’s still a question whether this venture will be enough to keep him afloat if this role will birth other offers if the younger audience will be enough to continue. These possibilities run through his head, even though he was waiting for this exact moment for almost a year now.

Also, what about Jeno?

He’s so focused solely on his own miserable life, while Jeno still studies diligently, never giving up on his dream of being an architect. Will that be possible for him? Construction companies don’t run PR surveys to see whether the customers approve of their house to be designed by someone with only a 5 percent match.

“Aren’t you happy?” Donghyuck blinks up at him.

“I am! I just started to think how my life might be on track and things might work out for me but… What about Jeno?”

“Jeno’s graduating soon, doesn’t he?” When Jaemin nods, a sly smile takes over Donghyuck’s features. “We didn’t want to tell you until he’s finished with the university but, do you remember Kun? Renjun’s big brother at the frat house?” 

“I wish I don’t,” Jaemin groans. Renjun’s frat days were something Jaemin wished had never happened. 

“I’m not sure if you know but Kun also has an arguably low percentage. Renjun and he are still buddies to this day. And guess what?” He leaves a dramatic pause and wiggles his eyebrows. “His parents have a construction company where he works as an architect as well.”

“And you want to say with that…” 

“What I want to say is that Kun’s parents don’t care about percentages and I gambled my way with Markie boy to get Jeno’s portfolio – they’re impressed. They want to offer him a job.”

Before Donghyuck can add another sweet compliment for his own deeds, Jaemin jumps at him and crushes him in a hug. He attempts a peck on his cheek too, but Donghyuck is quicker and he only likes giving kisses for all his suffering friends, not receiving one.

“Why does it feel like you’re happier for Jeno than for yourself?” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, peeling Jaemin’s arms away from his body.

“I’m happy for the both of us,” Jaemin chimes, already reaching for his phone. Donghyuck catches his hand. 

“Do you really want to tell him now?”

Jaemin turns to him with a puzzled expression. “What’s the problem with telling him now?”

“Aren’t you still in your awkward phase after the kiss?”

Donghyuck’s right. Since the kiss, they’ve been attempting to build back the ease that was specific to their relationship but it doesn’t come easy. Whenever Jaemin becomes too touchy-feely, doubt overcomes him and he pulls away. Of course, it’s not possible during their dates but when they’re alone, there’s seem to be a wall built by fear between them. Jaemin doesn’t understand – Jeno initiated the kiss, Jaemin replied. It indicates both of them are on the same wavelength, doesn’t it?

But Jeno called the kiss a mistake.

“I still want to tell him,” Jaemin snatches the phone from the table. 

He’ll call Jeno over, tell him the good news, and maybe take him on a date as well. 

Maybe he’ll kiss him when no one sees it because he’s never the one to back away from stupid plans.

***

“There is progress,” Jaemin says when Jeno’s finally seated on the couch, his eyes shining brightly. “Our little stunt has started an avalanche.”

“How so?”

“I got a role offer,” Jaemin starts, growing more and more excited to share the news regarding Jeno. 

Jeno stands from the couch, a big smile spreading on his lips. He’s crossing through the room to Jaemin and for the first time since the kiss and weeks of awkwardness, Jeno hugs him. Jaemin lets himself melt into his embrace, taking advantage of their closeness to nuzzle his face into Jeno’s neck and take a deep breath. He missed Jeno’s scent. 

Jeno stiffens in his hold and pulls back. The wall that seemed to crumble at the good news is still intact, still there. 

“So—” Jeno begins, a little awkwardly. Jaemin looks up at him and he expects to see his own pleased expression mirrored on Jeno’s face. But Jeno is shifting slightly, nervously playing with the strings of his hoodie and Jaemin feels the smile wither slowly from his lips. “Is this the end?”

Jaemin opens his mouth to ask what end. Then he realises that Jeno is talking about the plan.

Jaemin racks his mind, searching for loopholes in the agreement. They’ve decided on splitting up when the momentum starts – when they’ve done enough so people could see that they’re happy even if they’re not soulmates. They’d gradually grow apart – telling people that they’re taking things easier, wanting to keep private. People wouldn’t notice they’re no longer dating for months if not years. 

And the plan worked. They’ve set everything in motion.

He wants to say something. He wants to say, they might have to continue acting because who knows? Maybe it’s a false alarm and he might not succeed with the role and then they’re back at square one. Maybe they should pull it longer, waiting for the reactions and decide when everything is crystal clear. He wants to say he’s not ready to stop parading around with Jeno, holding his hand and kissing him in front of cameras – and if he didn’t mind he would do that in private, too. 

But he doesn’t say any of that. He’s a coward.

Instead, he smiles and says, “Yes. This is the end.”

*** 

It takes a while for people to realize they’re not together anymore. Jaemin doesn’t delete Jeno’s pictures nor does he act like he didn’t exist. He’ll still find himself talking a reporter’s ear off with an anecdote of something stupid Jeno did while they dated from time to time but Donghyuck not so secretly kicks his shin and he shuts his mouth. When people do pick up Jeno’s obvious disappearance and they start questioning Jaemin about it, he gives out neutral answers like Jeno’s concentrating on his studies or that he doesn’t want to be distracted now that he’s got a big role coming. They look at him weirdly, whisper behind their palms but accept it without any fuss.

Jaemin should feel happy. He’s got what he wanted – like always. He’s got the role, he has the opportunity to act beside people he’s been looking up for ages. He’s cast by his talent and not by the number beside his name and people come up to him on the streets saying, _thanks for standing up for us_. In these times, he feels like a fraud because he did this for himself. He didn’t think about anyone else when he decided to run this plan beside himself, never thought about other people while he pushed and pulled Jeno with him for the world to see. His stupidity still impacted some, leaving him feeling like an impostor.

He feels oddly empty. Now that he’s busy again, going to shootings, attending events and answering reporters’ endless questions, he assumed he won’t have time thinking about Jeno.

They don’t speak anymore. Jaemin wonders why his thumb hovers on the send button, why he doesn’t seem to be able to send a simple text of ‘ _jeno lee, it’s been ages!! how are you??’_ but months have passed in radio silence. Jaemin thought that they’d remain friends after all of this. 

But then comes a text from Jeno, informing him that he should pick up all his things from his apartment. Jaemin latches to the idea, hoping that they would have time to maybe talk about the past months over a coffee when he would say, ‘ _You know what Jeno Lee? I think I want to date you for real_ ’ and Jeno would laugh on how ridiculous that sounds and yet agree – because somehow, it doesn’t occur to Jaemin that Jeno would reject him.

But when he arrives at Jeno’s apartment, he finds Mark there.

“Where’s Jeno?” Jaemin asks, voice a little too desperate and accusatory for his liking. Mark just smiles and there is pity in his eyes when he pats Jaemin’s shoulder.

“He went home to his family. He asked me to give these back to you.”

Mark hands him a box. He peeks inside it and it’s full of his stuff, neatly packed. It’s not much, Jaemin hasn’t stayed in Jeno’s apartment a lot. But he’s forgetful and usually if he loses something he’ll just buy another – so he’s really not that surprised to find a pair of AirPods in there, along with a few hoodies and jackets he lent for Jeno. He digs through the box, hoping for some secret letter or at least a small note – anything that indicates that this is not over yet.

“Oh,” Jaemin says. He really thought that Jeno inviting him is just an excuse for him to come up and talk. He’s done pretending that he doesn’t feel sad about it. “I feel so dumb.”

“Look Jaemin,” Mark begins. Jaemin likes him, he’s a nice and honest guy, enough so if Jaemin reflects on his advice it usually sets things into progress. “Jeno’s my best friend but he can be very oblivious from time to time.”

“I’ve noticed,” Jaemin says bitterly.

“He’s not sure you like him. I advise spelling it out to him,” Mark’s smile turns pitying. “He’ll come home next week. You still have your key, right?”

*** 

“Jeno Lee, fancy seeing you there,” Jaemin calls from the couch, spreading out on the furniture like he owned the place. Jeno winces at the sudden voice, unaware that there would be someone else in his apartment other than himself. He throws his duffel bag on his shoe racks.

“It is my apartment, though,” he says in a small voice. His heart beats loudly in his ears. He’s not ready to face Jaemin, yet. That’s why he ran away to spend time with his parents and asked Mark, bless his soul, to hand Jaemin back his stuff instead of him doing it. He throws his keys on the table and the clattering sounds deafening in the silence. “Why are you here, Jaemin? I thought it’s over.”

Jaemin lets out a small chuckle and Jeno feels his face heating up. He tries to hide his face in his favourite hoodie, the baby blue one that Jaemin tried to steal one too many times, and he leans on the doorframe. Jaemin sits with his back to him but he cranes his head back so he can see him.

“Are we really?” His voice lilts around the words, shameless and playful as always. Jeno opens his mouth to confirm, _yes we are_ but he stops when he sees the smile die on Jaemin’s lips. The actor stands up from the couch, painfully beautiful as he just stands in the middle of Jeno’s battered living room and the breath hitches in Jeno’s throat. “I hoped we could talk.”

“About what?”

Jeno doesn’t like to be dishonest. But right now, to guard his own heart, he carefully masks his voice into nonchalance, turning away from Jaemin to stare at the wall like he’s seen something interesting there. From his peripheral view, he can see Jaemin clenching and unclenching his fist like he’s nervous.

“I wanted to tell you something when you last called me over. But you left,” he says, his deep voice is merely more than a whisper. Jeno has to pay close attention to what he’s saying, afraid if he’s slacking, he would miss something. 

“Is that so?” Jeno asks absentmindedly, gaze stubbornly staring at the wall. 

He wishes Jaemin would take the freaking hint and leave – so Jeno could finally try to get back to his normal, simple life where no one knows him. He can go back being only known as Mark’s or Heejin’s friend, never really known for his name, never really staying in anyone’s mind for longer than a second. He can go back to being nameless, work on his architecture projects without a certain someone always showing up and messing them up. So he can graduate in peace. He can throw himself back to work, only surfacing when he wants to and he doesn’t have to open up to someone who doesn’t care whether he wants to be alone or not. He doesn’t have to go out on dates that are too fancy for him, that make him uncomfortable. He doesn’t have to still smile despite feeling like shit there – only to then Jaemin say something utterly stupid that would help Jeno breathe again. 

Jaemin crosses the small distance between them and halts in front of Jeno. There are only a few centimetres between them but for Jeno, they could have been thousands of kilometres away, it would’ve been the same. This is the distance he cannot cross because there is no way someone as brilliantly burning as Jaemin would settle down with someone as dull as Jeno.

He likes Jaemin.

He likes Jaemin but he won’t do anything. He won’t confess because he knows what Jaemin is like. He never settles down, always has something in his mind, always going for the better. In their fake relationship, they were exclusive. But he just can’t wrap his head around Jaemin, who acts like he’s in love with everyone, who doesn’t need Jeno anymore, who is finally free from the soulmate-shit they’ve been through, would just choose to be with him. Jeno’s not a fool. He knows that Jaemin is not on his level and that this thing between them was only created for others to see. But over the time it became a little too real – and Jeno wonders what Jaemin wants to talk about.

“I can see you going extra miles in your head. Don’t get a headache,” Jaemin’s tone is light but when Jeno risks a look at him, his expression is serious. 

“What am I supposed to do? You show up suddenly, saying you want to talk and then stay quiet,” Jeno murmurs, not liking to admit that Jaemin is right. He’s spending too much time in his head, overthinking and overanalysing every single insignificant thing. “Just get over it.”

Jaemin bites his lip. He hesitates to come closer to Jeno but he shakily closes the remaining distance between them. They are close, too close – Jeno wants to step back and keep the distance as a barrier between them before he does something stupid.

“I think it’s clear what I want to talk about,” he whispers, his breath tickling Jeno’s lips. 

“I never know what you’re thinking,” Jeno says finally, searching for answers in Jaemin’s eyes and never finding them. He never gets them – Jaemin hides his feelings quite well, even if he’s unaware of that. Jeno lets Jaemin take his hand and direct him to the couch, his palm cool on his own skin. They sit down, knees bumping together and fingers laced loosely around each other. This is so familiar yet so terrifying.

“You think I’m far more complicated than I really am,” Jaemin responds, a smile stretching over his lips. “I’m really simple-minded.”

Jeno wants to laugh at that because Jaemin is everything but simple-minded. He can be sly and calculating at times or carefree and obvious in others. He surprises Jeno all the time with his thinking – sometimes Jeno waits for him to get angry but he just laughs it off, or sometimes Jeno misreads his mood to be happy but he’s hiding something. It’s hard to read him but while he still gets lost, Jeno’s getting better at it. 

Except when he deliberately doesn’t want to see things.

“Then what are you thinking about?” he asks, feeling a little brave. Jaemin’s smile widens, impossibly so and his eyes flicker down at Jeno’s lips.

“That I want to kiss you,” Jaemin admits, one hand creeping up to play with the hair on Jeno’s nape. “Is it okay for you?”

Jeno knows he should probably decline. That’s what he’s decided while he was away – no getting back to Jaemin. A clean cut with the end of the fake relationship, no longer 5 percent soulmates, no longer fake boyfriends. It’s quick and clean, he thought, this way he could forget Jaemin and the fluttering feelings in his chest sooner. But Jaemin offers something so irresistible right now, and Jeno’s a coward and weak and he cannot say no.

So he nods.

The corners of Jaemin’s lips turn upward as he leans closer to Jeno, his eyes flickering from his eyes to his lips until he’s too close and he shuts them. All happens too quickly, so Jeno has no time to prepare himself – Jaemin falters for a moment, bumping their heads together and boring into Jeno’s brown eyes.

“I just want to make sure you don’t think it is a mistake now,” he says in a soft voice. Jeno’s breathing hitches in his throat. He doesn’t want to lie, he doesn’t want to say he’s entirely sure it’s not a mistake. It’s more like even if he knows it’s not a good idea, he wants to do it, and he wants to kiss Jaemin. The other senses the hesitation that oozes out of Jeno and he lets out a sigh. His eyes reflect disappointment as he breaks out of the gravitational pull. “You don’t want this, Jeno?”

Jeno falls speechless. How is he supposed to tell Jaemin that while he wants to kiss him, this is all a mistake in his mind because it would just make cutting him off harder? How he craves for a kiss but it’s so hard to believe Jaemin isn’t just playing with his emotions? 

“Jaemin, I—” he starts but he can’t continue. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say.

It used to be so easy with Jaemin. He didn’t have to act in a certain way with him because they didn’t try to impress each other, there was no need to act favourably and nice – so they often just exploded on each other and got their feelings out there. But it’s not the case anymore, talking about their feelings became something that seems too frightening and real, so they cowered behind other reasons to hide. 

Jaemin jumps up from the couch, quickly pacing from one corner of the room to the other. He looks dazzled and confused and Jeno wants to stop him because it makes him anxious as well but he still doesn’t know what to say. 

Jaemin, on the other hand, looks like he’s about to have a meltdown.

“I’m such a fool. I must’ve misread the signs,” he rambles, one palm slapping his forehead. Jeno gets dizzy following him with his eyes. “I was so sure of myself, I didn’t even second guess myself on this one. Even Mark said to go for it – was he wrong too?”

There is panic in his eyes when he turns his gaze on Jeno.

“You say that you can’t tell what I’m thinking but what about you, Jeno? What are you thinking about while you’re sitting there so awfully quiet?” The accusatory tone makes Jeno wince. 

“Jaemin, _stop_. Just—sit down.” His hands are trembling when Jaemin actually stops in front of him. He doesn’t sit but at least he stops rambling and pacing. Jeno takes a deep breath and thinks that he might as well get over it. “I just think you don’t like me the way I like you.”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything. He just blinks dumbly at Jeno. After a moment, he collects himself enough and there is an entertained glint in his eyes.

“That’s interesting. Please go on and elaborate,” Jaemin sits down on the top of Jeno’s coffee table, motioning him to continue speaking.

“Okay,” Jeno sighs. “I think you just enjoy that I’m like – like _this_. All these mushy, disgusting feelings made me weak against you and you like to play on that and play with me because – why would A list actor, Jaemin Na hang out willingly with me? I just can’t imagine why you would settle down with me when you have so many opportunities. Are you planning something else? Or are you planning something against me? Would you like to include me in another scheme to overthrow the government? What is it this time?”

“ _Wow_ , who would’ve thought you can be such a cold-blooded bitch, Jeno Lee,” Jaemin cackles loudly and Jeno’s afraid he’s gone mad. The actor stands up from the coffee table, marches up to him and jabs his index finger into Jeno’s chest. “Well, buckle up because I’m about to pull a _Jeno Lee_ on you.”

Jeno narrows his eyes and he’s about to ask ‘ _and what does that suppose to mean?_ ’ when Jaemin’s eyes glint dangerously and he decides maybe he doesn’t need to dig his own grave further. 

“I think, you’re pretty fucking aware what I think about you because hell, I wasn’t even trying to hide that I like you. Even more, I continuously dropped hints that I like you because unlike _you_ , Jeno Lee, I’m not afraid of liking someone. I even told you I believe that besides this messed up business with the 5 percent, we might as well be soulmates. And you’re still trying to say I’m the dishonest here? You’re the one who’s dishonest with yourself,” Jaemin spits out the words with venom and pokes Jeno’s chest harder and harder, punctuating each word. When he finishes, he deflates a little and the tenderness comes back to his gaze. “I don’t know what caused your insecurity but it’s time to get rid of that since I’m pretty sure I like you the same way you like me.”

He throws himself next to Jeno on the couch, sprawling like he’s tired from trying to enlighten Jeno about this feelings business. He leans his head on his own shoulder, secretly peeking for Jeno’s reaction.

“Also,” he adds in a softer voice. “These feelings aren’t mushy or disgusting. You’re only saying this because you’re afraid of them. Who would’ve thought? Jeno Lee, the calm and collected kid becomes a hot mess like this when he likes someone.”

Jeno can’t help but let out a little puff of laugh. He mimics the way Jaemin is sprawled, bringing their faces closer together. His insecurities are still raging inside him, he still believes this is all fun and games for Jaemin and there is no way this would last. But then he takes in Jaemin, softly staring at him with a tender smile on his lips and he thinks, _maybe it’s worth the risk_. Maybe he needs to take this leap of faith – he might stumble and fall but also, he might fly.

“Only with you,” Jeno says and scoots closer to Jaemin.

“Oh, I’m honoured,” he jokes, mockingly nodding with his head. “Now what do you say, Jeno Lee, can I kiss you now?”

“Yes, please.”

Jaemin cups Jeno’s face into his hands and holds him there like he’s something precious. His thumb is rough against the soft skin of his cheeks as he carefully caresses it. Jaemin takes it slow, builds up the tension between them like before – leaning in slowly, eyes zeroed on Jeno’s lips. Jeno can’t help but flutter his eyes closed, too flustered by the mere intimacy of Jaemin being this close. Heat rises in his cheeks and he feels like this is their first time kissing. Everything feels new and exciting – the fluttering in Jeno’s chest increases and he tries to hold back the smile that threatens to bloom on his lips but he fails.

Jaemin’s lips are dry against his when he connects them into a kiss. It’s soft, almost like a peck – it feels too innocent and afraid coming from someone like Jaemin Na. Not seeing anything more to lose, Jeno presses into the kiss, his hand coming up to run his fingers through Jaemin’s pink locks. Jaemin’s own hands slowly slip from holding Jeno’s cheeks, down to his neck and then to his shoulders. He licks Jeno’s lips and for return, he opens up for him obediently. The air around them heats up slowly but surely, morphing into something closer to their usual kisses than the one beforehand. 

Jeno notices the gaping distance between their bodies the same time Jaemin does. Jeno runs his hands down to hold him at his waist and pull him closer, while Jaemin climbs up on his lap, holding Jeno close to him. Maybe this is what Jaemin meant on that they click well together – how they communicate with each other without saying anything, how they understand small nuances and act on them. 

Jaemin’s weight on him is oddly comforting. He has to rest his neck against the couch and Jaemin uses this opportunity to lean down to bite down on his jugular, coercing sweet noises out of Jeno. He likes this, likes feeling Jaemin’s sharp canines scratching on his soft skin and he likes as the bites are followed with his lips, soothing the pain with small butterfly kisses that reach lower and lower, shameful and consistent. While Jaemin is busy leaving his marks on Jeno, Jeno’s hands explore his body. Jaemin feels firm against his touch and Jeno needs to remind himself that while Jaemin seems lithe, he’s nothing like that – he’s lean and strong, muscles built artfully with the help of personal trainers to create his best possible form. Jeno feels the warmth seeping from Jaemin’s body through the thin material of his shirt and he enjoys basking in it. 

Jeno’s hands slowly hide under the shirt, roaming on the naked flesh, feeling up every fibre of Jaemin. He sets fire ablaze wherever he touches and Jaemin responses by pushing his body closer to his touch. Jeno feels the desire coiling in his stomach, making every touch, every kiss more and more exciting. 

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” Jaemin whispers into Jeno’s ears.

“Why didn’t you do it sooner then?” he asks but he regrets it immediately. He knows exactly why this didn’t happen sooner – it was on him.

Jaemin laughs loudly and leans back a little so he can take in Jeno’s whole face. The weird mixture of mirth and lust in his eyes makes Jeno wanting to do stupid things for him – like reach up and caress his soft hair or he absentmindedly thinks about his guitar in his room and how Jaemin’s smile would shine when he sang love songs for him.

“Are you kidding? You just made up your mind like 10 minutes ago,” Jaemin complains but his signature smile stretches on his lips widely. “Jeno, for someone who’s claiming to be so smart, your memory is shit.”

“Hm? Not Jeno Lee?”

“Ah about that. I called you on your full name because for one, you seemed to be annoyed by it and two, to establish that we’re colleagues,” Jaemin explains. Then steals a quick kiss. “And I guess we’re over that.”

Jeno, for a moment, thinks about what they are. But he shakes his head, wanting to get rid of every thought that is not solely focused on the moment, on Jaemin in front of him.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jaemin asks voice levelled. He pays attention to every minuscule detail of Jeno’s expression, watching like a hawk for any kind of sign that he’s not ready. He’s genuine, Jeno realizes as he gives a reassuring smile, thumbs digging into the other’s waist tightly.

“Yes.”

Jaemin attempts a small whistle.

“Oh? Jeno making immediate decisions? There are still miracles in this world.”

“Shut your smartass mouth.”

“Or else?” Jaemin taunts, drawing the syllables out.

Jaemin leans back from Jeno and in a panic, he tightens the grip on his waist. He’s not ready to let him go, he wants him to be as close as possible, to feel his warmth, to feel his touches, to have his senses overwhelmed by the closeness. His nose is full of Jaemin's scent, laundry detergent and warm cotton and something that is specifically Jaemin. There's a slight sheen of sweat forming on his forehead when Jaemin moves and he accidentally grazes his crotch. 

He releases a small whimper and he feels himself hardening in his sweatpants. Jaemin smiles into the kiss and Jeno has his eyes closed but he can practically see his eyes lighting up with mischief. He brings their crotches together again, earning a low grunt from Jeno.

"What a sweet sound," Jaemin murmurs against his lips, working his hips for more fraction. A small moan escaped his lips too. He takes Jeno's hands and directs them on his ass. Jeno lets out an amused sound and Jaemin stops his movements. "What?"

"Where's your ass?" Jeno asks with an innocent smile. 

"You fucker--"

Jeno rolls his hips upward to stop Jaemin from hitting him and ruining the mood with it. Jaemin falters and Jeno can feel his hands tremble on his shoulders. He cranes his neck up, running his lips and nose on the column of Jaemin's neck to whisper, "Let's take it to the bedroom, shall we?" 

Jaemin shudders and when he brings their foreheads together to look at Jeno with his darkened eyes full of adoration and lust – finally, there is no doubt that this is right. For the first time in his life, Jeno has no doubt about what he's doing is right. This is not a mistake, this is what he wants, what Jaemin wants. 

"What are you thinking?" Jaemin asks and tears Jeno away from his thoughts. He caresses his cheekbone with his thumb, cupping his face tenderly. These tender actions make Jeno’s heart clench, making him want nothing more than to drown in Jaemin’s affection.

Jeno opens his mouth to tell Jaemin how he feels. But this is new and alien for him – even if he wants to tell Jaemin that he's beautiful, that he has stars in his eyes and that his heart threatens to explode each time they kiss – the words get stuck in his throat and he feels frustrated because he wants Jaemin to _know._ So he just sits there, holding the other in his arms and tries to convey the whirlwind of emotions he feels right now through his eyes.

Jaemin chuckles, brushing the black curls away from Jeno's eyes. 

"You're so emotionally constipated. But it's okay," Jaemin says, breathing a small kiss on Jeno's lips. "You don't have to say it. I understand."

Jeno lets relief fill him as he helps Jaemin climb off from his lap. He just stands there and looks at Jeno like he hung the stars, a stupid smile etched on his face that makes him look younger than he really is. He's almost boyish when he offers Jeno his hand to help him stand up. 

"Let's go." 

Somehow, this is the Jaemin he knows and he doesn't. He’s known Jaemin for months, almost a year now, watched him turn from a stubborn, narcissistic asshole into someone who actually pays attention, who cares about people, someone he hid away for a long time to protect himself. But this Jaemin, tender and loving are so new and yet familiar because Jaemin always looks at people like he is falling in love with them. But he looks at Jeno like he’s already in deep.

Jeno takes his hand, leading Jaemin to his bedroom. It’s dark here because he forgot to pull up the blinds and his bed is a mess. His ears are burning as he quickly kicks the used underwear under his bed and he hopes Jaemin hasn’t noticed it. But no, when Jeno turns back to face Jaemin, his eyes are solely focused on him. Jaemin comes closer, taking his cheeks into his hands and he doesn’t waste time to kiss him again. It’s not like before.

It’s not sweet like a moment before. It turns heavy. The more aggressively Jaemin pushes into the kiss, the more their teeth clash and noses bump. He slowly backs Jeno until the back of his knees hit the bed and pulling away with a smirk, he pushes Jeno to fall on the soft mattress.

“Why are you like this?” Jeno grunts and pushes himself up on his elbows. Jaemin easily follows him, climbing up on him, trapping him with his body. With a satisfied smile on his face, he pecks Jeno’s lips.

“You like it,” he says in an awfully knowing way.

“Sadly.” 

Jaemin rolls his eyes. He lowers himself so he can whisper into Jeno’s ear, “Back to the business.” 

He nibbles Jeno’s earlobe, working lower and lower, while his hands slowly slip under Jeno’s grey hoodie, feeling up the heated skin there. There is some hidden urgency with the way Jaemin kisses, bites and nibbles his skin, the way he feels him up like he wants to explore Jeno’s body before he would dissolve into the thin air – but Jeno doesn’t know how to voice that he will be there for a long time if Jaemin needs him if he doesn’t plan to throw Jeno away the moment he’s done playing with him.

Jeno’s fingers run in the pale pink locks as Jaemin is working on leaving marks on his collarbone, pulling the hair when he feels a small wave of pleasure running through him the moment Jaemin finds a sensitive spot. He hears a small purr from Jaemin when his grip tightened around his hair – and he takes a mental note about it for later use. Jaemin pulls back to admire his work. His lips are red and swollen, covered in spit and so, so pretty – Jeno aches to steal more kisses from them.

“I think it’s time to get rid of this,” Jaemin says, sitting back on his knees, pulling Jeno up. He obediently starts shimmying out of the hoodie, as Jaemin pulls it off of him. 

Jeno knows he has a nice body. He tries to stay as active as he can, working out and keeping himself fit both mentally and physically. And each sweaty hour spent in the gym was worth the appreciating gaze and a small whistle from Jaemin. He can’t help but flex a bit, just for good measure. Jaemin runs his fingers on his abs, halting where his underwear peeks out from his sweatpants. 

“You’re always hiding under big clothes, I thought you have something to hide,” Jaemin observes and Jeno catches him licking his lips.

“Maybe a third nipple?” Jeno jokes. “Or—”

Jaemin slaps his palm on his mouth, silencing him forcefully. Jeno chuckles under his palm, eyes turning into crescents while Jaemin complains.

“Stop ruining the mood, Jeno Lee—” 

Jeno peels off the palm from his mouth, eyes boring holes into Jaemin’s, watching for his reaction. He takes two of Jaemin’s long fingers into his mouth, circling them with his tongue, coating them with saliva. Jaemin visibly gulps, his eyes trained on Jeno’s mouth as he sucks on his fingers, hollowing his cheeks.

Jaemin lets out a small whimper and says, “You’ll be the death of me.”

He removes his fingers from Jeno’s mouth, switching them with his lips – tongue running on his lips, sucking and biting them while his hand brushes over Jeno’s nipple, earning a small gasp into the kiss. Jaemin breaks away, lowering himself to caress Jeno’s bare chest with his lips, murmuring praises as a prayer and worshipping him, creeping closer to his other nipple.

He circles his tongue around the bud and Jeno’s fingers return to his scalp, gripping the hair tightly and keeping him there. Jaemin works diligently, kissing and sucking and earning those sweet noises from Jeno. He lets his other hand wander lower and palms his bulge.

“Oh, aren’t we a little overexcited?” Jaemin hums.

“Jaemin—” Jeno warns him but the blush on his cheeks doesn’t help to make him look serious.

“You’re no fun,” Jaemin snorts, already pulling down Jeno’s pants. “Now let’s get you out of these ugly sweatpants.”

“Wait!” Jeno calls, panicking. “You still have your shirt on.”

Jaemin arches a perfect eyebrow at him, a cocky smile playing on his lips, “And? Then do something about it.”

Jeno doesn’t understand his newfound shyness as he reaches to unbutton Jaemin’s shirt. His fingers slightly tremble as he’s working on the buttons, eyes zeroed on the bare skin that is already peeking out from under the material. He feels the heaviness of Jaemin’s eyes on him and his cheeks are heating up under the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Hey,” Jaemin’s voice is soft as he calls for Jeno’s attention. “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not sure.”

Jeno furrows his eyebrows. Why is Jaemin asking this so much? “I’m sure.”

“Why are you so hesitant, then?” Jaemin asks and leans closer to Jeno, bopping their noses together. “Am I your first?”

“No!” Jeno says loudly, scandalized. “It’s just—” 

“You haven’t done it with feelings yet. We get it Jeno, you suck at handling emotions.” 

He sends Jaemin a dirty look but he explains anyway. “I’m just afraid when this is over you’ll disappear.”

“Oh Jeno,” Jaemin sighs, running his fingers on the other’s black hair. “I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Jeno looks for a sign that Jaemin’s lying. He searches because he knows Jaemin can lie with a straight face – but he comes up with nothing. Jaemin stares back at him with an openness that leaves no room for doubting and second-guessing his intentions.

“I want to suck you off,” Jeno blurts out.

Jaemin flicks his hair out of his eyes. “Please, I won’t stop you.”

_ Good _ , Jeno thinks. Because he may or may have not been lusting for this even before feelings came into the picture. Jaemin is hot, that was evident from the first moment. His questionable behaviour made him a bit less so but Jeno’s just a flawed human as well. 

Jeno pushes Jaemin on his back, the white shirt spreading open on his chest, revealing his body. He lets Jeno take the control – he must've assumed that this would give him the push he needs to overcome this weird loop he’s fallen into. Jeno climbs over Jaemin, trapping his body and returning the kisses that were peppered on his own skin. 

He works diligently on kissing and marking Jaemin and the actor is not ashamed to voice his pleasure. It’s fun in a way, Jeno thinks as he’s smiling into a bite and Jaemin lets out a low choked off sound, having no control in a situation. 

Jeno brushes the tip of his nose on Jaemin chest, down on his abdomen to the point where the elastic band of his underwear peeks out of his jeans. He loves Jaemin’s scent – musky but pleasant, warm and comfortable. He feels Jaemin's eyes on him, watching every move of his and he finds he enjoys the attention. 

Jeno unbuttons Jaemin's jeans and tries to pull them down. Jaemin, without a word, lifts his hips to help Jeno. As he stands he sees his soulmate spread on his stupid starry bed sheets, pink hair forming a halo around his head, eyes bright and glinting with something Jeno knows reflects in his own eyes, blush creeping on his cheeks, chest rising and falling and he's so—

"You're so fucking beautiful," Jeno says without thinking. Jaemin laughs, loud and clear, ringing off the bare walls of the bedroom. 

"Why thank you," he replies, a half-smile on his lips. He runs a hand in his hair and his eyes flicker on Jeno's body. "You're not half as bad yourself." 

Jeno rolls his eyes good-natured, climbs back over Jaemin's body. He pushes their lips together in a chaste kiss. "You're hotter when you don't talk." 

"Same for you, chief." 

Jeno lets out a small puff of breath, amused how this feels nothing different from their constant banter through their fake relationship, yet it's so liberating. Maybe their friends were right – they really behaved like they were real. 

Jeno moves back to leaving open-mouthed kisses over Jaemin's stomach, hands running on the other's bare tights. For a moment, his lips grace Jaemin's clothed bulge but he passes over it. 

"You're such a tease, Jeno Lee," Jaemin complains from above him, his eyes hidden under his arm. Jeno just chuckles and goes back sucking a few marks onto Jaemin's inner tight. It seems like Jaemin is sensitive here, from the way he reacts to the kisses – he twitches each time Jeno touches him with his lips. 

Jeno reaches back to Jaemin's bulge and gives it an experimental lick. Jaemin reacts immediately, bucking his hips up for more friction. 

"Slow down there, baby boy," Jeno chuckles against his dick and peppers the bulge with kisses. 

"Ugh. You'll be the death of me." 

“You’ve said that already.”

“Yeah, because it’s true.”

Jeno hooks his fingers under the elastic band of the underwear, pulling it down slowly. Jaemin's cock springs out, curling against his stomach. Jeno’s mouth waters at the sight.

"I've been wanting to do this for so long," Jeno says, taking Jaemin's dick into his hand, running his thumb over the slit. Jaemin groans and pushes himself up on his elbows for a better view. His abs flex as he does that, the shirt falling from his shoulders but still hanging there – and he looks like every one of Jeno's wet dreams. 

“Is it too early to talk about kinks? Because I have a tiny suspicion that you’ve an oral fixation—”

“Can you shut up at least while we’re doing this?”

"I'm sorry for being worried that you want to put literally _everything_ into your mouth like do you know the risks—" Jaemin rants but Jeno has the upper hand right now. He twists his wrist the way he likes it on himself and Jaemin breaks into a moan. “You little—”

Words get stuck in his throat and morph into as Jeno gives an experimental lick. Enjoying the taste and Jaemin’s reaction, Jeno wraps his lips around the head of Jaemin’s cock, sucking on it lightly. Jaemin lets out an appreciating little sound that signals Jeno to go on. He licks the whole length, from the base to the tip, following the vein. He looks up at Jaemin, testing the waters but he meets with dilated pupils and feverish pink cheeks. Never breaking eye contact, Jeno takes Jaemin into his mouth, lips wrapped tightly around his cock and bob his head. His tongue lays flat against Jaemin’s dick, lowering his head until the head hits the back of his throat.

“Ah, just like that,” Jaemin moans. He pushes Jeno’s hair back, holding the black locks for leverage. Jeno relaxes his throat and with every bob, he tries to take Jaemin deeper. Jaemin accidentally lets himself thrust upward, pushing himself deeper than before and Jeno chokes. “Oh God, Jeno, I’m so sorry—” 

Jeno pulls off of Jaemin with a pop, mouth red and swollen, eyes glistening with tears. He replaces his lips with his fist, twisting and pumping Jaemin’s cocks without stopping. Jaemin wants to cry, how beautifully wrecked he looks, how the soft and warm boy from before transformed into _this_ in front of his eyes.

“You can do that. No problem,” Jeno croaks, eyes wide and hungry. Desire coils in Jaemin’s stomach as he watches Jeno lower himself back, connecting their gazes and nodding, giving him the green light to do as he pleases. Experimentally, Jaemin bucks his hips shallowly, enjoying the warmth and wetness of Jeno’s mouth. With each thrust he goes deeper, earning guttural sounds from Jeno but he doesn’t show any sign that he wants to stop. Chasing his pleasure, Jaemin closes his eyes and wraps his fingers tightly in Jeno’s hair to keep him in place, fucking into his mouth.

There’s a soft tap against his tight and Jaemin immediately stops. He cracks his eyes open, seeing Jeno slowly pulling off again. 

“I’ll stop right here. We don’t want you to cum early, do we?” he asks with a crooked smile.

“Stop patronizing me,” Jaemin whines in a low voice.

Jeno climbs over Jaemin, caging him with his long limbs. He leans his head down, tracing the column of his neck with his nose, and murmuring, “Only if you’ll fuck me.”

For a moment, Jaemin just gapes at him, contemplating if it’s really the Jeno Lee he knows and loves. But Jeno’s back to work on kissing along his jaw, never letting Jaemin wonder for too long. Jaemin sneaks his arms around Jeno’s neck and waist, flipping them around so he’s on top. Jeno giggles, breathless. Jaemin makes a move to remove his shirt that is hanging around his shoulders but Jeno stops him.

“No. Leave this on,” Jeno says, tugging the collar of the shirt down enough so he can capture Jaemin’s lips. Not breaking the kiss, Jaemin unceremoniously tugs both sweatpants and underwear down from Jeno, getting him finally naked. 

Jaemin leans back on his knees, admiring Jeno being spread under him, pale skin contrasting against the dark blue of the starry quilt. He remembers when he first saw Jeno, so closed off and unapproachable and painfully shy – and now he’s here, still afraid of reasons that are not clear for Jaemin, yet he lays here stripped down from any mental or physical barrier that might appear between them, eyes open and inviting.

“I like you, Jeno Lee,” he blurts out, his brain to mouth filter long lost.

Jeno blinks at him, not understanding the sudden confession but he soon recovers, lacing his fingers behind Jaemin’s nape. The smile that is taking over Jeno’s features, turning his eyes into crescents and it tells Jaemin that he shouldn’t fret over the confession too much.

“I like you too,” Jeno’s voice is softer and more fragile, like putting out his heart for Jaemin is something that he desires and fears at the same time. He knows it’ll not be easy to coerce Jeno into believing that he’s here to stay – but he’ll try as long as Jeno lets him.

Jaemin’s large hand slowly slips down on his body, enjoying the hardness of the muscles under his palms. It’s hard to tear his gaze away from Jeno’s face or body when he’s so mesmerising, all hard edges and beautiful curves. He wants to show Jeno how he feels, if he doesn’t believe his words, then with his actions.

He reaches down between Jeno’s legs, fisting his cock and running his thumb over the slit. Jeno lets out a shaky groan when he sees Jaemin lean down to breathe kisses on his inner thighs, kissing then marking with those impossibly sharp teeth. The pain of those marks is quickly washed away by the pleasure that is building up in Jeno as Jaemin works himself upward to Jeno’s crotch with minuscule movements. 

Jaemin reaches Jeno’s cock and with a wicked smile, eyes boring holes into Jeno’s ones, he takes Jeno into his mouth. Not anticipating this, Jeno brings his knees up. 

Jaemin, not wanting to spoil the fun this early, pulls away, earning a groan from Jeno.

“Do you have—” Jaemin begins but Jeno cuts in.

“Yes. Nightstand, first drawer.”

Jaemin scrambles to his feet immediately. He fetches the condom and lube that is hidden in the drawer. 

Upon noticing the half-empty lube bottle, he glances at Jeno. He shows and shakes the bottle, trying to will away the ugly jealousy that has come with the sight. “Had fun?”

“Not really,” Jeno huffs. “My fingers are not nearly enough.”

Jaemin lags for a moment, trying to process what he’s heard and then lowers the bottle to stare at Jeno. The picture of Jeno fingering himself, pumping his fingers in and out, trying to reach his climax burns into his mind. His eyes are glassy as he looks at Jeno and asks, “Can I see it now?”

Jeno blushes, cheeks tainting with a pretty pink and he hides behind his arms. “Maybe next time. I want _your_ fingers in me now.”

Jaemin nods, still dazed. He pops the bottle open and pours the lube generously over his fingers. Jeno’s eyes are fixated on them, entranced by the thought of finally having those long fingers in him. 

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asks. He doesn’t mean to ask this – he just wants to make sure Jeno is one hundred percent okay with this; that he doesn’t have doubts; that he’s trusting Jaemin enough to do this. Jeno breaks his gaze away from his fingers. Molten lust quickly turns into tenderness when he locks eyes with Jaemin.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I’m perfectly okay.”

Jaemin reaches out and pumps Jeno’s cock for a few times with his other hand to make him feel relaxed against his fingers. With the lube, his first finger slips in relatively easily, Jeno’s hole warm and tight around his finger. He watches Jeno’s face, to stop if he feels uncomfortable or if it hurts. Jeno is breathing through his nose, deep and calm, trying to relax against his finger.

“I’m not a porcelain doll, Jaemin. I won’t break if you handle me stronger,” Jeno says, laughing at Jaemin’s concentrating face.

“Oh but you are,” Jaemin purrs without missing a beat. He adds another finger, feeling the stretch and Jeno winces. “You are precious like a doll.”

He fucks Jeno open with his fingers, curling them to find his sweet spot. When he’s loose enough, he adds a third finger for good measure. Better safe than sorry. Jaemin can see that it’s hurting Jeno, the stretch is too wide but he’s instructed to continue with surprisingly demanding words. Seeing Jeno like this, his hole swallowing his fingers into his velvety soft canal makes the desire to sit heavy in Jaemin’s stomach. 

“Please,” Jeno pants. “I want you now.”

He doesn’t have to ask twice. Jaemin removes his fingers, wiping down the excess lube on the quilt. He gives his cock a few tugs and quickly rolls on the condom. He feels urgent, having no time to spare – when Jeno is waiting for him like this, eyes hungry and hole gaping. Jeno places a hand on his cheek that makes him glancing up. 

Jaemin sees this look a lot – he’s used to people looking at him with adoration in their eyes, ready to throw everything away for him, looking at him like he’s the most precious person in the whole world. The reason he’s so stuck, heart beating rapidly in his chest as the realisation strikes him is that he knows the same expression mirrors on his face and he finds it beautiful. He smiles at Jeno, reassuring him.

Jaemin pushes Jeno’s knees wider apart and positions himself between them. He takes himself into his hands, pouring a good amount of lube on his hand to coat his cock. 

“Ready?”

“You’re the one who’s taking so—” Jeno complains but the end of his sentence is morphed into a gasp as Jaemin slowly enters him. 

Jaemin watches as Jeno swallows his cock, so tight and warm and maddening. His heartbeat is erratic in his chest, wanting nothing but pound into Jeno, chasing his own pleasure. But he goes slowly, wanting Jeno to get used to his girth. He stops when he’s fully in, pacing his hands next to each side of Jeno’s head. Jeno’s eyes are screwed shut, taking in deep breathes.

“Are you—” 

“Move,” Jeno sighs. 

Jaemin does as he was told, bottoming out and pushing back. He watches as Jeno’s expression transform from slightly painful to pleasure, his mouth falling agape whenever Jaemin thrusts into him. Jeno grows louder, not caring if his neighbours are hearing them, moaning out Jaemin’s name, stroking his ego. He adjusts himself and pushes into Jeno deeply and Jeno’s warm walls suck him in. He lets out a groan as the tightness welcomes him.

“Ah, right there,” Jeno gasps, Jaemin’s name falling from his lips like a chain of prayer. He must’ve hit his prostate and Jaemin tries to angle himself the same way from before. Jeno bites down his lips to stifle a moan, his toes curling as Jaemin repeatedly hits his prostate. 

Jaemin stills for a moment, for what he earns a dissatisfied sound from Jeno. When Jaemin looks down at him, his eyes are dark with desire but doubt is swimming in them. He giggles and steals a peck from his lips. 

“Let it out,” he purrs against his lips. “I love hearing your voice.”

This time when Jaemin pushes back inside, Jeno lets out a drawn-out moan, loud and reverberating from the walls. Jaemin sets his pace at Jeno’s instruction, going fast and deep, snapping his hips and chasing his and Jeno’s pleasure. They fall into a comfortable rhythm, the bed squeaking under their added weight, the darkness of the room embracing them in their lovemaking.

Jeno slowly reduces to an incoherent mess under him, gripping onto Jaemin’s shoulders to ground himself. Endless sounds of pleasure leave his lips as Jaemin pounds into him, the blunt edges of his nails leaving small, angry crescents on Jaemin’s skin as a reminder of what is happening. Similarly, Jaemin’s grip on Jeno’s waist is leaving finger-shaped bruises on the unblemished alabaster skin – and Jaemin loves the idea of leaving marks on his skin.

Upon feeling the familiar heat coiling in his stomach, Jaemin reaches between them to grab Jeno’s cock, coercing louder groans out of him from the doubled pleasure. 

“I’m close.” Jeno’s hoarse voice comes out merely as a whisper. He pulls Jaemin down, their chests are flushed together and he buries his face into Jaemin’s collarbone, biting and nipping at the sensitive skin there.

“Me too,” Jaemin answers in a hushed voice. “Come for me, baby.”

Jeno whines and lets himself go, spilling into Jaemin’s hand with Jaemin’s name on his lips. He clenches around him, and Jaemin hisses at the maddening tightness. Jeno slacks in his arms, Jaemin is still trusting into him and overbearing his senses. He feels oversensitive as Jaemin’s thrusts grow shallow. With a bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth, Jaemin comes. Jeno tastes the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, possibly the result of Jaemin’s impossibly sharp teeth.

Jaemin collapses on him, knocking the air out of Jeno’s lungs. Both of them are trying to catch their breaths until Jaemin pulls out and Jeno feels empty and cold. A small rumble comes from him and it shakes Jeno, too.

“Why are you laughing?” Jeno grumbles, feeling drained and sleepy. His eyelids are starting to grow heavy, finally satisfied and warm in Jaemin’s arms.

With too many teeth, Jaemin smiles at him. His afterglow is blinding – shining skin and dark eyes, burning so brightly. He latches to Jeno, arms and legs caging around his body with no intention to ever letting go.

“You would like to know, wouldn’t you?” Jaemin answers, too cheeky and energetic for Jeno to entertain right now.

“ _Jaemin_ ,” he warns.

Jaemin scoffs and mumbles something under his breath that eerily resembled something like ‘ _no fun’_ , when he shrugs and says, “I’m just happy.”

Jeno is glad Jaemin is laying on his chest so he cannot see the deep blush that spread over his cheeks at his words, nor the foolish smile that stretched on his lips. Still, Jaemin lets out a burst of loud and amused laughter that lingers in the air.

“You must be too judging from your heartbeat.”

“Shut up and sleep.”

***

When Jeno opens his eyes the next morning, the sunlight filters through the curtains and fills the room with warmth. He doesn’t remember when he fell asleep last night. Fragments of dreams and reality mix together into a confusing mass in his mind, getting him unable to differentiate between wishful thinking and real actions. As he stares at the ceiling, broken pieces of last night come together to create a picture that seems unreliable and unbelievable. With a breath caught in his throat, he glances at the empty space beside him and tries to suppress the disappointment that aggressively wants to resurface in him. He should’ve anticipated this – the idea of Jaemin liking him back was almost foolish. Jaemin probably wanted him fully for the last time before he dipped, enjoying the life they created for themselves.

With his career seemingly intact and growing back the love from thousands of fans – why would he need Jeno, after all?

And Jeno cannot find it in himself to blame him for it.

He runs his fingertips on the sheet that still held some phantom warmth, where Jaemin should be lying now. Jeno closes his eyes, imagining Jaemin there, under the first rays of the sun, so beautiful and regal it hurts, looking misplaced amongst the starry comforter but still there.

“Huh, I should’ve known you’ll get all emo if I disappeared for a second,” Jaemin’s deep, sleep-filled voice comes from the door and Jeno’s eyes snap open. He scrambles to sit, eyes following Jaemin’s half-naked form as he rounds the room to plop down on the bed. “I go to the bathroom for one minute and you’re already composing a farewell note in your head. Unbelievable.”

“You’re _here_.”

“Yes, dumbass. Now, scoot over, I’m freezing.” Jaemin nudges him away and he slips under the comforter, immediately going to seek warmth from Jeno. His long limbs are back to sticking to him like an octopus, his head burrowing into Jeno’s neck. His soft breathing against his sensitive skin alone makes Jeno’s heart clench. “Why is your apartment so cold in the morning?”

Still stunned into silence, Jeno reaches up to card his fingers through Jaemin’s hair, pinkish curls tangled together from the turning and tossing, checking if the Jaemin in his arms is indeed real and not just a fragment of imagination. Jaemin takes his wandering hand and slowly slots his fingers together. 

“You won’t disappear, right?” Jeno asks tentatively. “You’re real.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty much real. And no, you can’t get rid of me so easily. I have keys, do you remember?” Jaemin sighs, content. He snuggles closer, impossibly so and kisses each of Jeno’s knuckles. “Now, stop being sappy and cuddle me.”

“Are you always this impossible?” Jeno grunts but wraps his arms around Jaemin’s body obediently.

“Yes. Get used to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [twt](https://twitter.com/chaotic_jaem)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.me/assabaechu)


End file.
